Box of Rain
by Eskimo-Desi
Summary: Marissa has been swept up in a whirlwind of control and distortion. Warning - eating disorders will be explored in full detail. The prequel, "Unspeakables", is not necessary to read this, but it will be somewhat important as the story progresses.
1. Chapter 1

**Box of Rain**

**Author:** Eskimo-Desi

**Rating:** PG-13, just to keep it safe.

**Summary:** Marissa has been swept up in a whirlwind of control and distortion. Warning - eating disorders will be explored in full detail. Prequel not necessary to read, but it will be somewhat important as the story progresses.

**Author's Note:** Many thanks to **NaijaChiqa** for her help.

And now...the eagerly anticipated story, first mentioned in the prequel - Unspeakables. Well, somebody said they were excited for this. So, without further ado, I give you the first chapter.

* * *

**_Look to you but you're confused_**

**_I feel like I can only lose_**

**_Stand a while inside my shoes_**

**_Feel the rain come down_**

**_-Boy George_**

November 16, 2001

"Marissa! You're going to be late for school."

Marissa yanked her maroon blazer over her head and straightened the color of her white polo shirt underneath. She wiggled into her pleated gray woolen skirt and slid her feet into her gray clogs.

Grabbing the brush on her dresser, Marissa ran it through her silky shoulder-length locks six times and put a maroon headband on.

Her black Prada messenger bag was next to the door. She slung it across her body and looked down. She'd forgotten one of the most important steps in her morning ritual.

_How dare you_, said the voice that lived in her head. _You can't forget, you never forget_.

Marissa cast her bag aside. The uniform skirt was pulled to her ankles. Marissa lifted her shirt and blazer up and stood in front of her full-length mirror. She felts her hipbones, rubbing the skin that barely covered the protruding bones exactly three times. She sighed and lifted her layers up further, hands climbing over each rib.

"Marissa!"

Marissa lowered her shirts and pulled her skirt back up. She took her messenger bag and opened the door to her room, turning off the light before she exited.

Her mother, Julie, was waiting in the kitchen with her younger sister Kaitlyn. She held out a waffle and a paper napkin.

"We're running late, so you're going to have to eat in the car."

Marissa took the waffle and wrapped it in the napkin. She followed her mother and little sister to the garage, sitting in the backseat with Kaitlyn instead of the front as she usually did.

Julie backed out of the garage and drove down the street. A black Range Rover pulled out of their neighbors' driveway and began to follow them.

"I wish you'd carpool with Seth sometimes, Marissa. Kirsten says she's more than willing to drive you on days when I've got Pilates." Julie smiled at her elder daughter in the rearview mirror but was greeted with a pale frown.

"Mom, forget it. Seth Cohen is just…ew." Marissa shuddered at the mere thought of her gangly outcast of a neighbor.

Julie shook her head. "It's such a shame to hear you talk about Seth like that; you two used to play all the time in preschool. Besides, Kirsten and I are best friends."

"Mom, that was preschool. I ate Play-Doh and didn't know any better."

Julie frowned. There was no reasoning with Marissa these days. Gone was the vibrant, lovable, obedient Marissa. In her place was a withdrawn, sullen, easily angered girl.

Julie turned onto the street the Harbor School was located on. Marissa unbuckled her seatbelt, preparing to hop out of the car as soon as it came to a stop.

"Don't forget, I'm picking you up early for your doctor's appointment."

"I don't want to go. Nothing is wrong with me." Marissa shot eye daggers at her mother.

"I'll be here at eleven. We'll go to lunch after the appointment and go shopping if you don't want to go back to school."

"_I_ want to go shopping," Kaitlyn said. Marissa ignored her and stared out of the window at the students gathered on the quad.

Julie stepped on the brakes and Marissa quickly got out of the car. Without saying goodbye she slammed the door.

Kaitlyn rolled down the window. "Wait, Marissa you forgot to eat breakfast."

Marissa turned around and glared at her pig-tailed sister. Kaitlyn opened the car door and got out. She was wearing the same uniform – minus the blazer, as was customary for Harbor's elementary school students – as Marissa, and skipped over to her. Kaitlyn handed her glowering sister the waffle and hugged her.

Kaitlyn winced, feeling the sharp bump that was Marissa's butt bone. "Love you, Marissy." She skipped back to the car.

"Mommy, why is Marissa so pointy?" Kaitlyn asked innocently while she buckled her seatbelt.

Julie sighed. "I don't know Kaity, but you're going to be late for school if we don't hurry."

As she pulled away from the curb she saw Marissa carelessly toss the waffle into a nearby trashcan.

Marissa spotted her two best friends, Holly and Summer, talking to a junior by the name of Rich Patterson. She walked over to them.

"Hey girl!" Holly greeted Marissa with a kiss on each cheek. "Are you totally psyched for the pep rally?"

Damn it. Marissa had completely forgotten about the afternoon's pep rally she'd helped Jen Cumings, Harbor's social chair, plan. According to the perky brunette senior, Marissa was a shoo-in for social chair next year.

"I have to miss it," Marissa admitted. "I have a doctor's appointment."

"Bummer," said Summer. "Are you like, sick or something? Does this have to do with the hair on—"

"Summer!" Marissa stopped her friend. "No, it has nothing to do with _that_." She glared at Summer. She couldn't believer her – had she really almost mentioned Marissa's sprouting hair on her stomach in front of Rich?

"Well, feel better." Rich winked at Marissa and walked away.

"It's my mom," Marissa explained to Holly and Summer as soon as Rich was out of earshot. "She thinks I've lost too much weight lately or something."

"Well, you have gotten a little thinner since last month…" Summer pointed out.

"But she looks great!" Holly argued, tossing her bleached blond hair over her shoulder. "She's like the skinniest girl in the ninth grade."

_More like the skinniest girl in the school_, said the voice in Marissa's head. _Or you will be soon enough._

Not for the first time, Marissa silently thanked God for giving her a friend like Holly to stick up for her.

"Besides – it's not like I've been exercising or dieting like crazy," she said.

"Yeah, but you're eating less, Marissa." Summer was obviously concerned but she knew Marissa had been bingeing and purging at the end of last year and over the summer.

"Well, duh, Summer – I haven't puked in month so you know I haven't been bingeing. You're probably just not used to me not eating like a pig."

Holly nodded in agreement. Even though Marissa and Summer had only befriended Holly over the summer, she knew all about Marissa's problematic past – bulimia included.

"I guess…"

"I'm sure I've only lost a few pounds. It's nothing to worry about, that's for sure. I mean, it's not like I'm _anorexic_ or anything." Marissa laughed, and Holly joined in.

"Don't be such a worrywart, Sum. I wish I could eat healthy like Marissa. She's only just slimmed down a bit, you know." Holly linked arms with Marissa and Summer and led them into the school.

Summer still had a pensive, bothered look on her face. Marissa caught her eye and smiled reassuringly.

She was fine. She'd have to convince Summer by eating a little more at lunch.

_And you'll compensate by cutting back on dinner. Or skipping breakfast every day, instead of occasionally._ The voice spoke calmly, confined to the jumbled space of Marissa's brain.

It would work perfectly. She'd use the calories from breakfast at lunch. That was all. Marissa opened her bag and felt around for a piece of gum. She needed something to chew to get rid of the hunger gnawing at her stomach.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Marissa's science class was watching a slideshow on the three major types of bacteria – coccus, bacilli, and spirilla. Marissa stifled a yawn as dyed bacteria squirmed across the screen.

A knock came at the classroom door and the entire class looked over, glad to have a distraction, any distraction, from the subject at hand.

The teacher, Mr. Gorelick, walked over to the door and opened it. With his back to the students, they began to whisper among themselves.

"Marissa, your mother is here." Mr. Gorelick scanned the rows of uniform-clad students for his brightest one. Over the last few weeks she'd stopped raising her hand, speaking only when called on. Mr. Gorelick was a little surprised at Marissa's sudden disinterest in participating in his class. Her work was superb as usual, however, and Mr. Gorelick found no reason to worry.

Marissa stood up and gathered her books. She eased her bag over her shoulder and walked to the door, a chorus of goodbyes following her. She shut the door and began to walk down the hall with her mother, although not acknowledging Julie's presence.

In less than a minute she heard the classroom door shut. Out walked Luke Ward, Marissa's boyfriend.

"Hello, Luke." Julie smiled warmly at Marissa's good-looking boyfriend. He wasn't even fifteen but Julie thought he was rapidly transforming into a magazine spread worthy man. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Bathroom break." Luke held up the bathroom pass Mr. Gorelick had given him and smiled. He wrapped Marissa up in one of his rare bear hugs and said, "Good luck." Of course Marissa had told him she had a doctor's appointment, but she had said it was just a check up, and that maybe she'd have to get some shots.

"'Bye Marissa, Mrs. Cooper." Luke hurried off towards the bathroom.

"He's such a caring boyfriend." Julie approved.

Marissa said nothing, but quickened her pace.

"Can we just skip the appointment?" she said suddenly. "I need new shoes."

"I had to fight with that bitch of an assistant at Dr. Jones's office to get an appointment so little in advance," Julie said. "But we can go for shoes afterwards."

Marissa let it drop. She'd rely on the doctor to convince her mother that she was perfectly healthy. Because she was in good health, wasn't she?

_You are fine_, the little voice said. _You just slimmed down a bit, that's all. In fact, losing a few more pounds wouldn't hurt. _Then_ you'd be more than fine; you'd be perfect._

On the way to Dr. Jones's office, Julie let Marissa listen to her headache-inducing music—something she almost never allowed in her car but found more tolerable than that vulgar rap music kids were into these days.

Once they arrived at Dr. Jones's office, Julie parked the car and they entered the twelve-story brick building.

"Let's take the stairs – it's good exercise, you know," Julie suggested, trying to get her daughter to pay attention to her – to say anything at all – but really she was just interested in working her leg muscles since she'd be missing her afternoon training session with Antonio.

"No, I'm taking the elevator. Too many stairs," stated Marissa. She headed over to the elevators and pushed the **_up_ **arrow.

_Lazy. Lazy_. The words echoed inside her head. Marissa was sure she was thinking them but couldn't process the thoughts. _Take the stairs, weakling. You could use the exercise._

Now her mother's words buzzed about. _It's good exercise, you know_. Was her mom implying that Marissa was…fat? Marissa almost hated to think the word. Julie was the one who was concerned with her weight. So first she was losing too much, but as of now she could stand to lose more?

_Your mother is right now. You need the exercise. You've been too lazy lately._

I know, Marissa pleaded with the voice, give me a break. I've got tennis three afternoons a week and twice on Sundays – I'm on the team so I get in shape then.

_Now._ Marissa liked the voice; it was always flat and smooth, no matter how angry she made it. Except she was the one she could hear thinking, right?

"It's only three flights of stairs, dear." Julie persisted in convincing Marissa to walk with her but when the elevator came to their floor, Marissa stepped in, leaving Julie no choice but to follow her.

_You should've taken the stairs_. Marissa shook her head, disapproving of herself. She promised herself she'd do twenty extra jumping jacks later and fifty more sit-ups.

In the elevator, Marissa pushed the button and leaned against the wall. The lighting did no justice for her skin; to her mother she looked fairly washed out.

"I want you asleep early tonight, Marissa. You look tired. Maybe you need to start taking vitamins…" Julie stopped short with a silencing glare from Marissa.

Her mom was always picking on her. Marissa this, Marissa that. Nothing Marissa did was right in Julie's eyes. Too much makeup…not enough makeup…fashion no-no…Marissa was always committing some sort of crime in her mother's eyes.

They got out on the third floor and headed for Dr. Jones's office. In the waiting room Marissa took a seat and Julie decided it would be best if she sat on the opposite side of the room.

Marissa had become increasingly hostile towards her lately and Julie didn't want to do anything that might further upset her.

Julie picked up a magazine and blocked out the quiet chattering of the other waiting patients.

A short African American woman – a nurse – opened the door that led to Dr. Jones's examination rooms.

"Gillian Greene," she called out in a monotonous voice.

An overweight redhead of medium height followed the woman.

Marissa stared curiously at Gillian when the teenager attempted to smile at her. She shrank in her seat, almost afraid that if Gillian came to close she'd rub off onto Marissa. How did that girl feel about herself? She was fat, and Marissa knew she was thinking meanly, but she was terrified of becoming so herself.

Once she was gone Marissa giggled, trying to block out her own insecurities.

"What?" Marissa looked to her left and saw a small boy sitting a few chairs over. "What's so funny?" he demanded to know.

Marissa shook her head. "Nothing."

_Don't laugh_, the voice warned. _If you're not careful, if you're selfish, you'll end up looking like_ _that._

No I won't, Marissa countered, I don't have red hair. She laughed nervously. The small boy began to pick his nose.

It seemed like her brain had split off into two parts, one that she knew she controlled and one that snuck up on her at the oddest of times. It was quite the elusive…whatever it was. Whenever Marissa thought too hard about it she lost herself. She just couldn't pinpoint where the contradictory thoughts were coming from. She'd given up trying to reason with her mind and find out what was causing the thoughts, accepting them as her own.

The waiting-room nurse came out again. "Marissa Cooper." She had nice, defined cheekbones. Marissa couldn't see her body in the scrubs she was wearing.

Marissa stood up and Julie put her magazine down on the chair next to her.

"Do you want me to come back with you?" she asked tentatively.

Marissa shrugged and walked over to the nurse. Julie, grateful for the response – neither a yes nor a no – and followed her daughter. Marissa normally ignored Julie's questions or vehemently argued against them. A shrug was a nice, calm change.

"Dr. Jones will see you in room four in just a minute." The nurse opened the door to the examination room and let the Coopers in. There were two chairs in the room, and Julie and Marissa each took one.

"How long is this going to take?" Marissa asked in a bored tone.

"I'm not sure." Julie looked around the room for a magazine, a pamphlet, something to do.

There were no magazines, nothing behind which Julie could hide from Marissa's negative vibes, and when the door finally opened, ushering Dr. Jones into the room, both Julie and Marissa were relieved.

"Hello, Mrs. Cooper." Dr. Jones was busting out of her white lab coat. If it was intended to hide her, it wasn't working. She stared at Marissa with her intensely blue eyes, and Marissa uneasily looked away. Marissa's head always hurt when she stared at them for too long. "Marissa. Now what are we here for today?"

She looked at Marissa, expecting the young teen to answer her, but her mother began to speak.

"Marissa's lost some weight recently…and I'm concerned," Julie told the doctor.

"I haven't!"

"Well," Dr. Jones looked from mother to daughter, "I guess the only way to find out is to get her on a scale."

Marissa folded her arms and stood up. "Take your shoes off, please," Dr. Jones ordered. Marissa took her shoes off and stepped on the scale that was up against the wall.

Dr. Jones moved the weights around. First he moved the 100 bar and the scales tipped down.

No, Marissa thought. I can't possibly weigh one hundred. I've got to weight less.

Dr. Jones moved the 50 bar, and the scales tipped up, obviously.

Marissa held her breath as the one pound bar moved to fifteen, twenty…thirty-seven…forty-four…forty-six.

The scales balanced out. Quickly Marissa added it all up in her head. Fifty plus forty-six was ninety-six. Not too bad. Not bad at all.

_Not good_, the voice yelled. _Too much! You can do better than ninety-six!_

Dr. Jones wrote something on her clipboard. "Marissa weighs ninety-six pounds," she said. "I want to measure your height."

Marissa stood against the wall next to the height markers. "Sixty-five inches." She scribbled away on the paper.

Again, Marissa did the calculations. She was five feet, five inches. Ninety-six pounds. 1.4 pounds per inch. That sounded like a lot to Marissa.

"Well, at Marissa's last visit she was five feet, four inches, and she weighed one-hundred and four pounds. She's grown an inch but lost eight pounds."

She'd grown, but still managed to lose weight! Marissa tried to hide the smile that planted itself on her face.

_You only lost eight pounds, and besides, you grew an inch. There's _more_ of you now. Don't be so giddy, girl_. Marissa shut out the voice when Dr. Jones spoke again.

"I'm not _extremely_ worried as of yet, Mrs. Cooper. But I am concerned – and if Marissa continues to lose weight it could become a problem."

"What should we do? I don't want Marissa to make herself sick." Julie sent Marissa a warning look.

"Make sure she's getting enough to eat. Sometimes these kids get so caught up in school and activities that they forget to eat properly. Why don't you make an appointment to come back in two weeks so we can make sure Marissa hasn't lost any more weight. Just tell Justine that I've given it the okay."

Julie nodded. Justine was a bitch and Julie couldn't wait to tell her that Dr. Jones wanted Marissa back in two weeks. That would present the girl with a scheduling conflict and Julie was excited. It served the rude, incompetent secretary right.

Dr. Jones turned to Marissa, who was slipping her clogs back on. "Thank you for being so cooperative, Marissa. Your mother's worried about you, so please don't give her anymore to worry about."

Marissa nodded, opened the door, and left the room.

"Thank you for seeing her on such short notice, Dr. Jones," Julie said, starting to walk out.

"Wait, Mrs. Cooper, can I speak with you for a minute?"

Julie nodded and reentered examination room four. She shut the door and sat down. Dr. Jones sat in the chair Marissa had occupied moments before.

"How long has this been going on?"

Julie shrugged, unsure. "I couldn't tell you exactly, but I noticed two weeks ago that Marissa looked a little thinner…and I thought maybe she was just slimming down, naturally shedding that baby fat, but –"

"Mrs. Cooper, Marissa was quite thin at the last checkup, although not _too_ thin. Is it possible that she's started dieting because you've told her she still has her baby fat?"

"I'd never say that to Marissa. I never have. And she hasn't been dieting – at least I don't think so. She used to have such a healthy appetite and now…she eats like a bird, Dr. Jones."

"I understand. I want you to make sure she eats breakfast and dinner; lunch can't be monitored because she's at school. There may not be a problem at all, but she's a growing girl and we shouldn't let this slip by unnoticed. And I have good reason to suspect that Marissa's weight loss is deliberate, but we'll have to see."

"Thank you, Dr. Jones." Julie left the room.

She stopped by Justine's office to schedule an appointment, smiling with delight when the surly secretary grumbled about having to cancel another patient's appointment.

"Have a nice day, Justine," she said, walking out of the office and back into the waiting room, where Marissa was waiting.

"Can we go for shoes now?"

"Yes, Marissa."

"Let's take the stairs, Mom. Since it's good exercise," Marissa suggested, not a trace of sarcasm in her tone that Julie suspected she was heading underneath.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So how was your doctor's appointment?" Holly said on the other end of the line.

"It was stupid," Marissa said, "Dr. Jones says I've grown an inch but lost eight pounds."

"Wow! I'm jealous. Are you in trouble now?"

"Not yet, but I have to go back in two weeks and if I've lost more weight then I might be." Marissa wasn't sure what the doctor had meant about her weight loss becoming a problem but she honestly didn't care.

_Good,_ said the voice in her head. The opinionated voice had become more of a permanent fixture. _You shouldn't care. They're worrying over nothing. You're not even that skinny._

Yet, thought Marissa. She grinned then and could almost picture the voice with a matching smile. Almost.

"So don't lose anymore weight." Holly, ever the genius, was quick to suggest this.

"It's not like I can help it even if I do…I'm not trying or anything. My mom is just being a bitch because she's jealous of me."

"I know what you mean. Just the other day my mom said that she had dropped a pants size and we'd probably be able to fit into each other's clothes. I mean, she's almost forty, for God's sake." Both girls giggled.

"Oh, guess what, Hol?" Marissa didn't wait for Holly to guess, because Holly would never guess. Instead, she'd babble on with insane hypothesis such as _You met Orlando Bloom at Jamba Juice? _Or _You're moving to Kansas? _"I was at the mall, buying shoes, and this man came up to me and my mom and asked us if I'd ever considered modeling. He said I had just the right build for it, and that I looked like I'd be really tall in a few years. He gave me his card, but I don't think my mom is going to let me call him."

"Ohmigosh!" Holly squealed, "That's amazing! He's right, you know. You're gorgeous and thin and I bet you're going to be like, really tall in a year or two."

"Marissa!" It was her father, Jimmy, calling her.

"I have to go, Holly."

"Okay, bye. Love ya."

Marissa was about to hang up when she remembered something. "Hol?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell Summer what I told you, okay?"

"Don't worry, I won't."

Marissa hung up the phone. Holly was a little slow at times, but she was a great friend _all_ the time.

"Marissa! Dinner's ready."

Marissa was about to yell back that she wasn't hungry but knew it wouldn't fly with her mother. Another, better idea popped into her head.

_Tell them you want your dinner in your room. You can trash it then. Or flush it down the toilet – just like when you used to throw up, except there won't be a chance of any food being left in your body._

"Dad, I have a lot of homework. Can I eat in my room?"

Jimmy knocked on Marissa's bedroom door a few minutes later. She was lounged on her bed, science binder open, trying to remember the names and shapes of those bacteria they'd learned about.

"Come in," she said.

"Here you go, kiddo." Jimmy set the plate and a glass of apple juice on Marissa's desk. He walked over to her and ruffled her hair. "Ah – science. Hated it."

"Me too."

"Don't stay up too late, Marissa. Your mother wants you asleep early."

I know, Marissa mouthed at the door after Jimmy had left. Don't I know what my mother wants.

_She wants you to get fat_, the voice sang. _But you won't. Your mother doesn't control you. You control you._

Yes. She controlled herself. Right. Right?

After a few minutes Marissa took the plate and cup to the bathroom. She poured the apple juice down the drain and mashed up the salmon and asparagus with the fork. Then, little by little, she flushed it down the toilet. After three flushes Marissa was afraid that she might clog up the pipes, so she wrapped the rest in tissues and hid it at the bottom of the garbage can in her bathroom. The maid emptied the trashcans every day so the last remnants of her meal would be gone by tomorrow.

She smiled, walked back into her room and set the cleared plate and empty glass, along with the silverware, on her bed. That had been easy. Too easy.

_They're easily fooled. Don't think you're so smart, Marissa_. That damned voice!

She finished her science homework and washed up. She was really tired, and wasn't going to put up a fight with her mother. Lately, she'd become bored with strenuous activity. There was no point in exertion, when it would only stimulate her appetite. She knew she needed to become stronger though, and she would. No matter how hard it was.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Marissa stood on the scale in examination room two this time.

Dr. Jones moved the weights. Marissa held her breath. This time, the 50 weight and forty-two balanced the scale.

"You've lost four pounds, Marissa." Dr. Jones's tone was neither angry nor congratulatory.

"Four pounds!" Julie turned to Marissa. "Have you been making yourself throw up? Have you? I'm not going to stand for this nonsense!"

"Mrs. Cooper, calm down. You're only getting yourself riled up, and that won't do you or Marissa any good. Now, Marissa, can you sit up here for a minute?" Dr. Jones patted the examination table. Marissa sat on it and Dr. Jones examined her neck. "There's no apparent swelling."

"I haven't been throwing up," Marissa said quietly.

"And I've been making sure she eats. I don't understand, Dr. Jones," Julie whined. She was such a baby, thought Marissa. She's just upset because things aren't going her way – after all, I did outsmart her.

"Have you been eating with her, Mrs. Cooper?"

Julie looked up at the doctor. "Well…not always. It's just…she's become so distant, it's hard to get through to her and hard to keep track of her."

"Okay." Dr. Jones took a deep breath. Mrs. Cooper was worrying her almost as much as Marissa's rapid weight loss. "I think we need to get Marissa some help."

"Do you mean the hospital? Is she that sick?" Julie seemed genuinely worried for once.

"I'm not going to the hospital. I'm fine. I'm perfectly healthy." Marissa glared at her mom.

"Not the hospital. Not yet. I think Marissa needs to see a psychiatrist. Maybe there's an underlying problem here, and it's really not about the weight."

"Of course it's about the weight," Julie snapped, "We live in Newport. They practically hand you an eating disorder when you buy a house."

"Mrs. Cooper, please. I'll give you the name and number of a psychiatrist I think can help Marissa." Dr. Jones opened the door and gestured for Marissa and her mother to follow her. Marissa slipped her shoes back on.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thanks to NaijaChiqa for all of her wonderful editing help. Important - this chapter takes place _before_ last chapter. Check the dates if you get confused.

* * *

May 29, 2001

**"Are you okay?" Summer knocked on the bathroom stall. **

**"Yeah." **

**The door swung inwards. Marissa was pulling at her corduroy skirt. **

**"I thought you said you weren't going to thr—" Summer said.**

**"I wasn't doing _that_. I just wanted to fix my skirt - it was bothering me." **

**Summer peered behind Marissa and could see that she was telling the truth. The toilet wasn't full of undigested food and it certainly wasn't humming to the tune of an earlier flushing. **

**"Holly wants to know if she can come into the bathroom," Summer said. **

**"I guess," Marissa replied in a bored tone. Holly Fisher had been hanging onto Marissa's coattails for a few months now, ever since Ellie was sent away. Summer and Marissa were joined at the hip again, and were more than happy to have Holly following them around, even if she did get pretty annoying sometimes. **

**Summer nodded and left the stall. She caught the eye of a tenth grader in the mirror and glared at her. The girl's hazel eyes grew wide with fright and she ran out of the bathroom. Summer smiled and followed her out. Back against the wall, Holly was chatting up an eleventh grade guy, Sean Torres. **

**"Hol, come on." Summer gestured for Holly to come with her. **

**"Bye, Sean. See you this weekend!" Sean nodded and Holly followed her into the bathroom.**

**Marissa was now at the sink carefully applying her lip-gloss. **

**"So what was that all about?" Holly inquired. "Why couldn't I come in before?" When both Marissa and Summer ignored her, she continued, "Guess what? I got us invited to a party this weekend."**

**"Holly, we're not going to another one of Jennifer's lame parties, where her parents come downstairs every five minutes and they serve punch." Marissa wiped the corners of her mouth and handed her lip-gloss to Summer. **

**Summer laughed. "My dad's going away in July, so we can have, like, a bunch of parties then."**

**"But July is so far away," Marissa whined. "Isn't he going away sometime in June, at least?"**

**"You guys! The party's not at Jen's. It's at _Sean Torres'_ house, for God's sake!" Holly screeched. **

**"Can I bring Luke?" Marissa asked, not bothering to congratulate Holly on her conquest. She had to admit, she was rather impressed that a follower like Holly had gotten the invites. **

**"Yeah, definitely," Holly said, casting a glance downwards. Marissa wasn't even excited about the party. She hadn't gushed over Holly's invitations, and to Holly, her work garnered _some_ interest. **

**"This is so cool. Sean Torres is _so_ hot." Summer sighed and handed the pink tube back.**

**"Isn't he? I think he likes me, really, like, he's always talking to me in the halls, and he calls me at night sometimes – well, okay, that was, like, once, but, we talk on AOL all the time. _And_ he's a good kisser," Holly gushed. Summer and Marissa's jaws dropped open.**

**"Hol! You've kissed _Sean_?" Marissa asked incredulously. "When? And why didn't you tell _us_?"**

**Holly shrugged. "Last weekend, at the club. You were taking your tennis lesson, Marissa, remember? And…Ohmigosh, he's like, so good!"**

**"You're so lucky," Summer said. "But no offense, he hits on tons of girls all the time. He could just want some ass." She crinkled her nose and shifted her weight to the right leg. "He's so _not_ worth it." **

**Marissa could tell that Summer was jealous. Who wouldn't be, if she didn't have a boyfriend like Luke _and_ her friend was getting attention from upperclassmen?**

**"Oh, don't pay attention to her, Holly. I bet he likes you." Marissa smiled at Holly and began to walk out of the bathroom. "Are you guys coming?"**

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Marissa reached across the table for the bowl of broccoli. **

**"You sure like that broccoli, kiddo." Jimmy handed it over.**

**She scooped some broccoli onto her plate and put the bowl down on the table, then stuffed the broccoli in her mouth, stabbing each piece with her fork. **

**"You've got such a _healthy_ appetite lately, Marissa. I don't know what's gotten into you. I guess you're growing." Julie frowned at her, who ignored her and kept chewing her broccoli. **

**"Pass the salmon, please," Marissa said to Kaitlyn, who was more than happy to. She took a medium-sized piece and within moments it was all gone. **

**As her stomach churned, one thing was on Marissa's mind; she hadn't binged and purged in two weeks. But she'd still eaten _far_ too much. Just thinking of the food, sitting in her stomach and taking up space, made Marissa queasy.**

**"Can I be excused?" Marissa wiped her mouth on the cloth napkin on her lap and stood up from the table. **

**"Don't you want to stick around for dessert?" Jimmy asked, but was quickly silenced by a glare from Julie.**

**"Don't _encourage_ her! She's gotten out of control lately."**

**"Julie – Marissa barely eats. Tonight is the first night in a while that she's actually eaten a whole meal. And if she wants dessert, she can have some." **

**"I don't want any," Marissa said, leaving the room. Julie, Jimmy, and Kaitlyn could hear her stomping up the steps. **

**"Now look what you've done," Jimmy admonished. **

**"Why can't Marissa eat dessert?" Kaitlyn asked her father.**

**"She can, sweetie," Jimmy assured her. "Don't you worry." **

**Upstairs, Marissa locked the door to her bedroom and went into the bathroom. She turned on both faucets and ran the bath. Kneeling down on the cold tiles, she bent over the toilet.**

**One shaking finger, two shaking fingers. Nothing. It had been awhile, and purging was turning out to be more difficult than she remembered. **

**Without a moment's hesitation, Marissa grabbed her toothbrush from the counter. Time was precious, and every minute wasted meant more food she couldn't get out of her system in time.**

**She crammed the toothbrush down her throat to the gagging point, and felt her stomach heave. Up came the salmon, dotted with green. Up came an emulsion of putrid green and a pinkish gray. Up came the unsightly mix again. **

**And when Marissa was satisfied she leaned back against the wall and sighed. Her throat burned, the raw patch at the back of her throat newly torn. And she felt positively miserable. **

**She couldn't control herself – she knew _that_ much. **

**If she hadn't eaten all that food in the first place, she wouldn't have had to purge. The past two weeks Marissa had been eating a moderate amount of food, and felt okay. **

**But it would be easier to just not eat. Then she wouldn't have to worry about purging or getting fat. **

**Marissa washed her face, hands and toothbrush, and flushed the toilet. She went into her room and looked at the clock. Seven-thirty. At that moment, she decided she'd refuse to eat anything for as long as possible. **

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**"Marissa, did you eat something?" Julie entered the kitchen in her hand-woven terrycloth bathrobe. Kaitlyn was eating French toast and Marissa had a glass of water in front of her.**

**Marissa pointed to the French toast. "I already had some," she said. **

**Kaitlyn opened her mouth revealing a half-chewed brownish-yellow mush. "No you didn—"**

**"Kaitlyn, don't talk with your mouth full. Are you ready, Marissa?" Marissa nodded and pointed to the messenger bag strapped around her body. "Well then, let's go. Kaity, you've got a field trip today so I don't have to take you in until eleven."**

**Kaitlyn swallowed her food. "Okay Mommy. Bye, Marissa." **

**Julie bent down by Kaitlyn and kissed her. **

**Just then the doorbell rang. "I'll get it." Marissa ran to the door, wondering who would come by at such an ungodly hour. She opened the door and saw Kirsten Cohen. "Hi, Mrs. Cohen."**

**"Oh, good. You haven't left for school yet. Is your mom here?"**

**"Yeah. I'll get her." Marissa walked back into the kitchen. "Mom, it's Kirsten." **

**Julie hurried to the door.**

**"Kirsten!" Julie kissed her on both cheeks. "How are you?"**

**"Great, Julie," Kirsten said, withdrawing from her embrace. "By any chance can you take Seth to school? I've got a meeting in…" she checked her watch, "twenty minutes and I don't have time to take Seth myself."**

**"Of course I can," Julie said brightly. "Marissa, let's go." **

**"You're a lifesaver, Julie." Kirsten turned around and gestured for Seth, who was leaning awkwardly against the idling Range Rover, to come over to her. "Seth, have a good day at school." She kissed him on the head, and he groaned.**

**"Why can't I just take my skateboard?"**

**"Because you might get hit by a car, sweetie. And besides – you'll be late if you skate to school."**

**Marissa appeared at the door, her eyes barely open and face expressionless. She mock-yawned, as if to emphasize her mood. Seth…he was hardly worth her time or manners. "My mom's getting the car from the garage," she told him.**

**"Tell your mom I said thanks, Marissa." Kirsten kissed Seth again and left the two teenagers alone. They heard the garage door opening. Marissa turned on her heel and walked over to the car. She got in the front seat and Seth got into the back. **

**"Marissa, why don't you sit in the back with Seth?" Marissa ignored this entirely, fingering the zipper on her bag. "Marissa!"**

**Marissa sighed, exaggerating her discomfort as she clambered into the backseat. Well, she didn't _have_ to talk to Seth. And she definitely didn't have to be nice. After all, it was her car and her space he was taking up. **

**"Everyone buckled?" Julie backed out of the driveway. **

**"Can you turn the radio on, Mrs. Cooper?" Seth asked. He reached into his black patch-covered backpack and took out a PopTart. Marissa wrinkled her nose in disgust.**

**"How can you _eat_ those things?" she said, watching him as he first ate the edges, then dove into the icing covered center. **

**"Believe me – it's better than my mom's cooking." Seth finished off the PopTart and licked his lips.**

**"You've got some chocolate on your mouth." Marissa pointed to the spot and Seth wiped it off.**

**"Thanks."**

**Julie finally turned the radio on. One of Marissa's favorite songs, _Paris in Flames_, was playing.**

**Marissa began to sing along softly with Geoff Rickly. "…and we watch our lives bleed out through our hands, that's how it was on the first day we saw Paris in flames...I think it's going to rain, rain down…" **

**"You know Thursday?" Seth asked. Marissa looked sharply at him. **

**"Yeah, why?" **

**"They're one of my favorite bands. You know, I never would've taken you for a closet punk."**

**"I'm not." Marissa folded her arms and turned away from him, looking out the window.**

**"Okay, my mistake. You're an emo chick, for sure."**

**"I am _not_, Seth."**

**The song ended just as they arrived at school. "Have a good day, Seth. Marissa." **

**"Thanks, Mrs. Cooper." Seth opened the car door and slid out. Marissa followed him.**

**Marissa walked away from him as soon as they got onto the grass.**

**"Bye," he said, "Do you like Death Cab for Cutie?"**

**"_Bye_, Seth." Marissa looked at Seth, annoyed.**

**"Poison the Well?"**

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**"Want some?" Luke pushed a plate of chips in front of Marissa. **

**"No thanks…I'm not really hungry." Marissa felt her stomach turn and anticipated a loud grumble. She laughed suddenly, as her stomach groaned.**

**"What?" Holly asked, munching on a M&M's cookie. **

**Marissa looked around and saw Seth Cohen on the ground. "Seth Cohen just tripped and fell!"**

**She pointed, and Luke followed her fingers. "Ha ha! What a fag."**

**Summer rolled her eyes and took a bite out of her turkey sandwich. "Cohen is _such_ a loser. I can't believe your mom made you carpool with him this morning!"**

**Holly leaned forward and sniffed the air around Marissa. "She smells alright," she affirmed.**

**"Duh!" Marissa giggled, tapping her fingers nervously against the table. One two three, one two three, one two three… "I didn't sit right next to him or anything. And guess what he was eating?" **

**"A bagel?" Holly said.**

**"No."**

**"Chocolate chip pancakes?" she guessed again.**

**"No."**

**"Belgian waffles?"**

**"No! A PopTart, Hol. It was sickening. First he picked off all the outside crust, and then he ate the inside goo."**

**"I would _never_ touch one of those things." Summer frowned. "You're lucky he didn't get it on you."**

**"God, no." Marissa shuddered at the very thought. **

**Holly stood up. "I'm gonna go get another cookie. They taste so good. Like, I can't stop eating them."**

**"Get me one?" Summer put down her sandwich and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. **

**Holly nodded. "Sure. Do you want one too, Marissa?"**

**"No thanks. I'm not really hungry. Big breakfast." Marissa smiled and tried to block out visions of M&M's cookies going into her mouth. They might taste good, but only momentarily, and was it really worth it?**

**A few moments' pleasure was nothing. The cookies would taste like dust in her mouth, Marissa told herself. When she was thinner, _then_ she'd be able to eat cookies. Not that she wanted to, of course. She didn't need them. She didn't really need anything.**

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**"Are you sure you're not hungry?" Jimmy stood in the doorway of Marissa's room. **

**"_Yes, _Dad. I'll get something to eat when I'm hungry, okay?"**

**"Sorry…I just thought…"**

**"Well, don't. I had a big lunch and Holly's mom brought smoothies when she picked her up."**

**"Oh. Okay. I just didn't want you to go hungry or anything." Jimmy turned to leave.**

**"Close the door, please." Jimmy nodded and shut her door. **

**Marissa curled up into a ball as the hunger pains grew more intense. It had been less than a day. How could she be so weak? She would grow stronger. She had to. **

**Homework spread out over her bed, Marissa decided to leave it unfinished and take a nap. After all, while she was sleeping she couldn't possibly be thinking about food. **

**Jimmy opened the door to Marissa's room and peeked in. She was fast asleep on top of the covers. Poor kid, he thought, she's so overworked at school. **

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Marissa stood in the kitchen, lights off and house quiet. Kaity had been asleep for hours. Marissa herself had only woken up half an hour ago. She'd finished her homework and when she dared herself to take a look at the clock, found it was ten o'clock. She hadn't eaten anything for over a day. **

**A day. Her stomach growled, and Marissa was reminded of what that meant. A day. She hadn't eaten. **

**The stainless steel refrigerator hummed innocently. Marissa stole a glance at it and began to walk towards it. **

**_Stop._**

**What? Marissa looked around. She'd thought it, hadn't she? **

**_Get back upstairs. You're not hungry, are you?_**

**What? The refrigerator still beckoned Marissa, and before she knew it, she'd opened it and was basking in its light.**

**She reached in and took out a slice of lemon meringue pie.**

**_Put it back_.**

**Marissa knew she shouldn't eat it, she wasn't that hungry, not really. She kept thinking about putting it back. She _was_ thinking that, right? Nobody was speaking to her; it was obviously all in her head.**

**Quietly, so as not to wake her parents or Kaitlyn, Marissa set the Saran-wrap covered plate on the counter. She opened the freezer section and took out a pint of Ben & Jerry's Brownie Batter.**

**_Don't eat it._**

**Marissa slowly opened the mostly full container. A bit of frost topped the barely-touched ice cream. She grabbed a spoon from a drawer and stuck it in the carton, scooping out a generous amount of ice cream. **

**_Don't you dare._**

**She shoved the ice cream into her mouth and chomped it furiously, swallowing it forcefully without really tasting it. Again Marissa dipped the spoon into the container. Again. And again. **

**She shoveled the chocolate goo as fast as she could, finding it strangely odd and comforting that she couldn't taste it. All Marissa could do was feel the cold ice cream sliding down her throat and gathering in her stomach. **

**All too soon Marissa reached into the container and found the spoon scraping against cardboard. She threw the carton away, unable to believe she'd devoured its entire contents in less than three minutes. She unwrapped the pie and crumpled the cellophane in her hands. She took her spoon and scooped the crust off. **

**Spoon to plate, spoon to mouth, repeat. And then the plate was empty, scraped clean with a desperation completely unfamiliar to her.**

**She put the plate and spoon in the sink and ran lukewarm water over them. The empty ice cream carton went in the garbage disposal. Marissa reached up and opened a cabinet, grabbing a box of Kashi GOLEAN. No. That wouldn't do. It was too…healthy. Too pure. Too un-guilty. **

**Marissa had to have something else. **

**_Stop._**

**Marissa shooed the thoughts out of her head as she reached further into the cabinet and drew out a box of Cap'N Crunch. Jackpot. **

**It must've been something Julie bought on a whim, because, Marissa knew, her mother would _never_ buy a sugary, fattening cereal. **

**She opened the box and tilted her head back, chewing desperately on the stale cereal as it slid into her mouth in a landslide manner. **

**That too, was gone within minutes. Marissa opened the refrigerator again and took out the butter. She opened the breadbox and withdrew the whole wheat bread – she would've preferred white or potato bread but she'd make do. **

**A knife slid the butter on the bread, and Marissa licked the edges. The knife pierced the tip of her tongue and she winced, but shoved the bread into her mouth to numb the pain. One, two, three slices. Just like that.**

**Marissa put the butter away, the bread back in its box, and dropped the knife into the sink with a clattering. She sat down on the tiled floor, sinking, not quite falling into it. **

**She sighed and patted her rounding stomach. It ached with all the food she'd consumed in the past fifteen minutes. Marissa sighed again. She was out of control. Helpless and completely, utterly out of control. **

**_Marissa. Marissa._**

**There was always the toilet to escape her physical weaknesses and tomorrow was a new day. She could do it. And she'd start with that pesky food taking up space in her stomach.**

**Marissa was rooting for herself now, as she crept up the stairs and into her room. Leaning over the toilet, she heard herself think.**

**_Good girl. Marissa. _**


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thanks to my wonderful beta, NaijaChiqa. And to all of the reviewers, without you I wouldn't be inspired to write. And my other story will be updated Monday. Sorry for the wait.

**Famous99**- The reason I chose this disjointed way of storytelling is because I wanted to show 1. When and where and why the voice originated, and 2. I wanted to show parts of earlier in the year to show the difference between then and now. I dont know if that made sense. It just...seemed to be the right way to write this story.

* * *

December 1, 2001

"Marissa, wake up." Julie shook her daughter. "You've got a meeting with Dr. Munster in an hour."

Marissa opened her eyes and squinted as her mother drew open the curtains, allowing bright bursts of sunshine to pervade the room.

"But it's Saturday," she whined, burrowing under the covers. Julie took hold of the duvet and pulled it away from Marissa's body.

"Get up, _now_. Your father isn't going to pay this psychiatrist $300 an hour for you to curl up in your bed. I'll take you to L.A. tomorrow if you can be dressed and downstairs in half an hour."

As she left the room, Julie heard Marissa yawn and the sound of feet hitting the floor. A little bribery never hurt anyone, she thought.

Marissa opened her closet and pulled out pink terrycloth lounge pants and a black Juicy hoodie. She grabbed a black camisole and yanked it over her head. A pair of black Juicy flip flops with the words "Smells Like Couture…" printed on them completed the outfit. She ran a brush through her hair, which had just begun to creep past her shoulders.

Twenty-three minutes later, she walked down the stairs.

"Good. I've got time to make you a real breakfast. What do you want?" Julie checked her diamond and 18 karat yellow gold Baume et Mercier watch. She had decided that to get Marissa to eat, she might have to actually cook. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make, for her daughter's health, she supposed.

"I'm really not that hungry. It's so _early_, Mom."

Julie opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of orange juice. She shook it vigorously and poured it into a glass. "Well, drink this. It will wake you up."

She slid the glass across the island counter and Marissa stopped it.

"Let me grab my purse then, and we can go." She sighed and left the kitchen. Marissa brought the glass of juice to the sink and poured it down the drain, and then put it back on the counter. A moment later her mother reappeared, tan Fendi bag in hand. "Found it." She eyed the glass, and noticed it was all but emptied. Traces of pulp clung to the sides and there was a just bit of juice in it. "Are you finished?"

Marissa placed her glass in the sink, not missing her mother's approving glance. She'd tricked her. She'd really fooled her mother! Usually Julie was a bit more interrogative, but today, she'd accepted what she saw for truth.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Marissa Cooper," the secretary called, "Dr. Munster will see you now." Marissa closed the magazine she'd been reading and stood up. She walked past the secretary's desk, the low oaken top showing the pale-skinned woman with fiery red hair and vibrant jade eyes.

She opened the door to Dr. Munster's private office. He looked up from a book on his desk.

"Hello, Marissa, I'm Dr. Munster."

"I know," Marissa muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"_Nothing_."

"Have a seat, then. You can call me Jerry." He pointed to a black leather couch. Marissa stared at it. "Or, if you'd feel more comfortable, you can sit in a chair." Marissa walked over to the chair in front of his desk. With a perfect view of the clock, she'd be able to count down the seconds until she got out of this place.

"So, Marissa, Dr. Jones tells me that she's concerned about your weight."

Silence.

"She faxed me your records. It says here that you lost eight pounds since your last checkup, but you grew an inch. And then – two weeks after that, you dropped four more pounds."

Silence. Marissa bit the insides of her cheeks to refrain from speaking out. She had nothing to say to this shrink, he didn't need to know what she thought about everything. _She _knew, wasn't that enough? And besides, his questions were hardly worth wasting breath over.

"Well, Marissa. I'm going to tell you what. Dr. Jones believes that you have anorexia nervosa. Anorexia nervosa is a serious disease, and refusal to maintain a healthy body weigh is potentially life threatening."

"I know all of that," Marissa snapped.

Jerry leaned back in his chair. He'd gotten a rise out of her. That was a good sign, anything was better than nothing at all.

"Are you concerned with your weight, Marissa?"

She shrugged.

Jerry glanced at his watch. Twenty-six minutes had gone by and he was getting nowhere. Still, she wasn't the most challenging patient he'd dealt with and from his experience, resistance was key.

Marissa didn't utter a word for three minutes.

"Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?"

Marissa looked up at the clock on the wall; thirty-one minutes to go.

"Do you play any sports? Soccer? Tennis?"

She nodded. "Tennis, sometimes."

"And you're in the ninth grade?"

"Yeah. At Harbor."

"And how is it? Do you like it?"

She shrugged. "I guess it's alright."

"Just alright? Why? What do you like about Harbor, and what don't you like?"

She shrugged again. She was getting pretty annoyed with the persistent questions. Sure, her father paid loads of money for this session, but…anyone could see that it was just a waste. Why did she have to talk to this quack? It was obvious that she didn't even need to go to a psychiatrist, really.

"What about your friends? Do you have many friends?"

"I guess."

"Tell me about them."

"There's nothing to tell! I've got Summer and Holly mainly, and Luke." She glared angrily, annoyed that he was making her slip-up and speak. She was disappointed by the advantage she'd just given him.

"I see. Do you have any other friends?" Jerry looked down and scribbled on his pad in shorthand.

Marissa nodded, but kept her mouth clamped shut. She'd said too much already. If she wasn't careful, she knew she'd find herself saying something wrong.

"I know I've already told you, but Dr. Jones, and your parents, are worried about the weight you've lost." Jerry paused, unsuccessfully trying to catch Marissa's eye. "Do you think you've lost too much weight?"

Marissa shrugged. Nineteen minutes to go. And then, she wasn't ever coming back. Why did he insist on asking so many prying questions? And how was this supposed to help her?

It isn't. They should know that it's time to give up. But you won't give up on yourself, now, will you?

"Do you know what's going to happen if you continue to lose weight? You're going to be sent to the hospital, Marissa. I think it would save everyone a whole lot of trouble if you just stopped this nonsense. It seems to me that you're dieting to an extremity. You're perfectly thin and healthy right now. You could stand to gain a few pounds."

_You're healthy. You don't really want to be his version of _healthy_, do you? Because it's not good enough._ _Don't listen to him._

Marissa crossed her slender legs and clasped her hands together – she had to be the epitome of grace and manners. It was just what her mother had always hoped for. Wasn't that good enough?

Jerry committed more notes to paper. Unresponsive, he wrote. Sullen. Watches clock intently. Seems on edge at all times.

"What are you writing?" Marissa asked. She wondered how he could write so much when he'd heard so little.

"I've been observing you, Marissa. And I need some notes for your record, for next time."

There won't be a next time, Marissa thought, but said, "Oh."

Jerry looked at his watch. "Well, our time is up for today, Marissa."

Quickly Marissa stood, her face brightening considerably.

"Thank you," she remembered to say, before hurrying out of the room.

Jerry sighed and buzzed his secretary. "Send Mrs. Cooper in."

"Yes, Jerry."

He had gotten practically nowhere with Marissa, but then again, he didn't usually treat anorectics. He was only seeing Marissa as a personal favor to Dr. Jones. But Jerry liked to see his patients improve. And from what he could see, Marissa needed his help – if she was willing to accept it.

The door opened and a beautiful, slender redheaded woman walked in. Her eyes were wide with worry and irritation.

"I'm Julie Cooper, Marissa's mother." She walked up to Jerry's desk and shook his hand. Then she sat down on the couch Marissa had refused to sit on.

"Jerry Munster."

"Well?" Julie asked almost immediately.

"Marissa was unresponsive and I couldn't get through to her. But this was only the first session. Although I haven't really dealt with anorexic patients before, I know one thing; patience is key. I'd like to schedule a meeting with you and your husband, Mrs. Cooper, to discuss Marissa, her habits, and the like."

"I'll have to speak with my husband to see when he's available," Julie said.

Jerry opened his date book. "I'll pencil you in for Tuesday at three-thirty."

"Afternoons aren't good for Jimmy. I'll have to find out exactly when, but evenings or lunch times are best."

"Three-thirty it is. Janice, she's my secretary, she'll give you a call the night before, just as a reminder. Good day, Mrs. Cooper." Jerry scribbled the appointment into his planner.

"Thank you, Dr. Munster." Julie sighed. This one was quite rude. But Dr. Jones had recommended him with the utmost praise and assurance, so she'd have to give him a try.

Once they were back in the car, Marissa declared, "I'm not going back there. You can't make me."

"Dr. Munster seemed perfectly nice," Julie fibbed. "What was wrong with him?"

"He was mean, Mom. And what a lack of respect. He kept asking me these inane questions that were totally irrelevant. And he practically put words in my mouth, Mom. He was horrible!"

"Oh, sweetheart." Julie reached for her hand and was pleasantly surprised that Marissa did not withdraw from her touch.

"And that's not all! He told me…he said I was a load of trouble for everyone. He did!" Marissa whimpered.

"Did he really?" Julie's anger was beginning to surface. How dare this complete stranger tell her daughter that she was troublesome! Sure, Marissa was worrying her, but she was not a load of trouble whatsoever.

"Daddy's wasting his money. Dr. Munster – sorry, _Jerry_ – doesn't know a thing. I don't see how he's going to help me."

"We'll talk to your father tonight, okay sweetie? Don't get upset. Do you want to stop for a smoothie?"

Marissa looked disbelievingly at her mother. "No," she replied, crossing her arms.

Julie sighed. The peace and getting-along had been nice while it lasted. She stole a glance at Marissa and saw that the tiniest of tears had gathered at the corner of her left eye.

_Don't cry._

I'm not, Marissa thought stubbornly. I'm strong.

_Not really. But refusing food is your only strength. Don't show emotion – it reveals far too much._

I'll be indifferent from now on, she promised herself. I have to be.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Jimmy – you should've seen her earlier. She was practically in hysterics." Marissa stood in the hallway by the stairs, hidden from her parents' view in the living room by a potted palm.

"Dr. Jones recommended Munster. How bad could he be?"

"You know she's going to have a tantrum if we send her back."

"Well, let me tell you this, Julie. Marissa is going to see a psychiatrist, whether it's Dr. Munster or some other one. Call Dr. Jones and set up a meeting with an alternate doctor. And this time – we're meeting with the doctor beforehand. Somehow – I just don't trust Marissa's word entirely."

"Fine."

Marissa heard footsteps approaching and ran up the stairs and into her bedroom. She shut the door and flopped down on her bed. She picked up a book from her night table and flipped it open to a random page. Wiggling around on the bed as if to look settled, she'd barely begun to read a page when a knock came at her door.

"Marissa?"

"Come in, Mom."

She opened the door. "Oh – you're reading. I just need a minute."

Marissa sighed, rolling her eyes, as if Julie was taking up _so_ much of her time, and put her book face down on the duvet.

"Your father and I have decided that you won't be seeing Dr. Munster anymore." Seeing the delighted look on Marissa's face, she continued, "Now that doesn't mean you're not going to see anyone, because you are. I'm calling Dr. Jones and she'll refer me to someone else."

Marissa pouted, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "But I'm fine, Mom. Really." She managed a big smile.

Julie smiled back, and said, quite sweetly, "No, you aren't. And that's not for us to decide, either way. Once a professional tells me that you're perfectly okay, _then_ I can believe it."

She glanced at Marissa's arms under the black zip-up; they had become rather bony. She let her eyes roam to her lower body and noticed that her pants couldn't hide how thin her legs were.

Once she'd left, Marissa took off her pants and jacket. She pulled her camisole up so her stomach was exposed. Looking into the mirror, she reached for her hipbones and rubbed them three times. She cupped her rib cage in her hands and moved upwards, groaning at the point where her ribs disappeared beneath the flesh of her breasts.

_Not good enough._

I know, though Marissa, I'm working on it.

_You're not as determined as you should be._

Marissa put her pants back on, depressed by her slow progress. She unrolled her tank top and lay down on the floor, with feet lodged beneath her bed. Arms crossed on her chest, she pulled up to her knees with her abdominal muscles and back down again. Up, hold, down, repeat.

When she could feel the heat seeping out of her skin like steam through the cracks of an oven, she did ten more. A little exertion never hurt anyone, and besides, this was supposed to hurt. Marissa reasoned that without a little pain and suffering, she'd never be as beautiful as she wanted to be.

_That's a start._

And a start it was. Animated by her inner praise, Marissa urged her body up for forty more sit-ups. And when she really could do no more for the moment, she sprawled out on her plush carpet, panting with happiness.

Downstairs, Julie Cooper had been on hold with Dr. Jones's office for ten minutes. Justine had promptly switched her over to the elevator music as soon as she'd stated her name.

The music shut off with a _click!_ and Dr. Jones's voice filled Julie's ear. "Hello, Mrs. Cooper."

"Dr. Jones, finally. I've been waiting for twenty minutes. Jimmy and I have decided that Dr. Munster is not the right match for Marissa."

"I see." Just hours earlier Dr. Jones had received a call from him, thanking her for the opportunity to treat Marissa and excitedly outlining his plans for her treatment. However, it was all in the Coopers' hands. "Would you like another referral?"

"That would be perfect, Dr. Jones. Thank you so much." Julie patiently waited while Dr. Jones put her on hold.

"Mrs. Cooper, are you still there?"

"Yes," Julie replied. She grabbed a piece of paper and one of Kaitlyn's crayons that she found lying on the coffee table.

"His name is Gregory Shore." Dr. Jones gave her his number, "See how he works out. I just want you to know that if Marissa continues to lose weight she'll have to be hospitalized, just a warning."

"Thank you, Dr. Jones. I'll let you know how she's doing after we make an appointment, as soon as possible."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jimmy and Julie had been sitting in the waiting room since Marissa went to see him twenty minutes earlier.

"I still don't see why Greg had to meet with Marissa first." Julie sniffed. "I expressly said that I wanted for us to meet with him first."

"He's the psychiatrist, honey, not you," Jimmy soothed, "He's got his methods and we have to let him stick with them – otherwise he may not be successful in working with Marissa."

"I know, but still…" Julie took a magazine from the stack and opened to an article titled, "Is Your Child Getting the Proper Nutrition He or She Needs?" It was just her luck to be reading that article. Promptly she shut the magazine and reached for another one.

"Julie, this isn't your fault." Jimmy took the discarded magazine and set it on the empty chair next to him.

"I never said it was," she snapped. "Leave me alone – I'm reading."

Dr. Shore's office was in total silence. Marissa searched the wall for a clock but all s he could see was a variety of framed diplomas.

Dr. Shore, sitting in a stuffed black recliner, leaned forward and continued to watch her. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her since she'd sat down, refusing to speak.

The only words that had been spoken were 'hello', and when Marissa didn't reply, he knew he had to wait it out. From his experience, he knew that at some point – he didn't know when – she'd crack. And to be honest, Greg enjoyed making his resistant patients crack – that was when he normally achieved the most positive of results. He'd dealt with anorexia a few times, and knew that the girls – and one boy he'd treated – were first defensive, but almost always softened up.

Marissa stole a glance at Dr. Shore; she'd been told his name was Gregory. His keen chestnut brown eyes had been trained on her, only stopping to blink. And he hadn't spoken, other than a quick hello when she'd entered the office. So maybe this was better than rapid-fire questions a la Dr. Munster, but she was more than slightly surprised at the psychiatrist's quietness.

And what did it mean? Dr. Shore wasn't taking notes on her behavior, and the lack of "doctoring" made Marissa uncomfortable. She couldn't read his face, either.

Annoyed, she finally broke the silence.

"Are you going to just sit there?"

Greg studied her fair face dotted with subtle clusters of freckles before responding. Her mouth was twisted into an angry frown but her eyes were scared, uneasy.

"Are you?"

Marissa glared at Greg. Who did he think he was to ask _her_ that. She wasn't the one getting paid to fix her problems…whatever they were.

_Don't let them fool you. You don't have any problems._

"My parents are paying hundreds of dollars so _you_ can fix me," she spat..

"Fix you?" Unnerved, Greg leaned forward in his chair, paper and pen cast to the cobalt blue carpeted floor.

"I mean – what's wrong with me…you're _supposed_ to tell me and then help me."

"I don't know what's wrong with you, yet," Greg replied in all honesty.

Surprised by his answer, Marissa couldn't help but believe him. She didn't have to like Greg but seeing as she'd already gone through one psychiatrist, she was probably stuck with him. And in that case, she might as well find out what his intentions were. "Are you going to help me?"

She knew that she didn't have a problem, but as long as her parents and doctors were going to insist that she did, she might as well find out what this shrink planned to do.

Greg watched as her expression became less hostile, and knew that she had let her guard down, if only for the moment. "If I can, Marissa."

Another honest answer, in Marissa's opinion. "What do you mean, 'if you can'?"

Sighing, Greg bent forwards to readjust his tasseled loafer, which had begun to slip off. It was going to take a long time to get through to her. "I can't help you unless you're willing to let me."

Seeing the confused, slightly cross look on her face, Greg glanced at his watch and continued, "You know what? We're done for today. Thanks for coming by."

Why did he make it sound like she'd done him a favor by meeting with him? Maybe, Marissa reasoned, Greg Shore wasn't half bad.

_Careful._ _Don't be blinded by false sincerity._

"Will you send your parents in? I'd like to have a word with them."

Marissa nodded and walked to the door. As she opened it, she heard herself say, "See you next week."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Just to clear things up a bit, I'm going to do this:

**Chapter 1** - November 16, 2001

**Chapter 2** - May 29, 2001

**Chapter 3** - December 1, 2001

Hope this helps. I'll continue to post it in each chapter, just in case you've forgotten. And "before" chapters will be bolded.

Thanks to my fabulous beta **NaijaChiqa**, and to everyone who has been reviewing. I really appreciate your comments.

**Sis2ACesarSalad** – No, my story only chronicles the time in Marissa's life when she's dealing with anorexia. So there won't be any Ryan. And also – I "know how" to be anorexia and bulimic because, and I'm only saying this because nobody here knows who I am, I suffer from anorexia. I've been hospitalized once and am currently in outpatient. I see a psychiatrist once a week and a nutritionist twice a month. Let's just say I've done my research on bulimia as well and although I've never been diagnosed, I have played with it.

I guess I should take this time to warn everyone of the dangers of eating disorders. They're not fun. They're diseases, and yes you can die. Eating disorders are physical _and_ mental diseases - some people seem to think that we "chose" this lifestyle and can snap out of it just like that.

Most of the technical things coming up in future chapters have happened to me, so I've got a first hand experience with most of this.

**Famous** – thanks for the idea, I've reposted the "earlier" chapters in bold to make it less confusing. Jimmy's a little AU but hopefully it will make more sense in later chapters. I guess, as Marissa spirals out of control, he becomes less of a disciplinarian because he doesn't know quite what to do. And that would explain his attitude in the actual show.

* * *

**June 6, 2001**

**"Marissa, can we come in?"**

**"Sure," Marissa croaked. She sat up in bed as Summer and Holly entered the room, the former flicking on the lights as she did so. Summer had a bowl in her hands and Holly a plate.**

**"How are you feeling?" Summer set it down on the night table. "We made you soup and baked cookies!"**

**Holly set the plate down. "Try them - we haven't."**

**"Is that a hint? Go ahead, taste them." Marissa laughed. How could Holly possibly be thinking of food, when her own stomach ached terribly; she hadn't been able to keep anything down since Sunday.**

**Holly pulled the Saran wrap off the plate and grabbed two cookies, handing one to Summer.**

**"Don't you want one?" Summer asked. She bit into the chocolate chip cookie.**

**"Nah. My stomach hurts _so_ badly right now, but I'll try them later. How was school?"**

**Summer reached for the plate. "You won't believe it"­**

**"Sean asked me out yesterday!" Holly squealed. "You know how at the party last weekend, he was like totally flirting with me? Well he gave me a ride home Monday and then yesterday he asked me out during lunch!"**

**Summer rolled her eyes as Holly went on. "He's sooo hot, but I guess you knew that, Marissa. But he's got, like, a sensitive side. He's not _just_ a hot jock. Sean writes poems!"**

**"That's great, Hol." Marissa closed her eyes; the lights were making her dizzy and fatigued. The damned cold she'd somehow contracted made it hard to breathe, and in turn, hard to sleep at night. And when she finally settled into a restless sleep, she'd wake up in a cold sweat.**

**Holly cautiously stepped away from the bed. Summer placed her hand on Marissa's forehead. "You're burning up, Marissa. And you're so pale!"**

**Holly smiled wanly. "Maybe we should go." She backed out of the room. "Feel better!"**

**"What was that all about?"**

**"Oh yeah - I forgot to tell you. Holly's got this phobia of sick people. It was tough, getting her to like, come with me." She giggled.**

**"You should probably go though"­I don't want you to catch this god-awful thing."**

**Summer glanced at the door. "I'll come by tomorrow," she promised. "And get well soon - you can't leave me alone with Holly for too much longer!"**

**Marissa nodded. "You're feeling a rage blackout, huh?" She smiled; Summer blowing up on Holly would be quite the scene.**

**"You have _no_ idea. Kisses!"**

**Marissa relaxed after Summer shut the door behind her; peace and quiet was seriously underrated. Closing her eyes, she tried her best to ignore the aroma of chicken noodle soup, but her stomach persisted.**

**I'm tired, she thought. I'll take a short rest and then I'll have some broth. And I really should try those cookies, just to be polite.**

_**Not the cookies. Soup is bad enough. But definitely not the cookies. **_

**Well, Marissa mused, maybe I'm right - I don't really need the soup _or_ the cookies. But I'll see how I feel after my nap.**

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**"Marissa, honey, I drew up a bath for you in the Whirlpool tub." Julie said, walking into the living room.**

**Marissa, curled up in thick woolen blankets, turned off the TV.**

**"Hey," Kaitlyn protested, "I was watching that!"**

**She snuggled under the blankets, then emerged resignedly from them and tossed Kaitlyn the remote.**

**She headed for the stairs, Julie on her heels. Entering the master bedroom, they walked into the bathroom.**

**"I've laid your towels out right there," Julie pointed to a ledge next to the bath where two fluffy pink bath towels were folded, "And if you need anything, just yell for me."**

**Without so much as a thanks, Marissa ushered her out of the bathroom and closed the door, locking it with a _click!_**

**Limbs stiff from days of bed rest, she undressed mechanically. Off came the plaid pajama bottoms, her father's Berkeley sweatshirt, the t-shirt from Holly's Bat Mitzvah, and finally her satin La Perla underwear, formerly snug on her hips but as of late loose upon her skin.**

**Standing in the steamy bathroom, a sudden shiver tumbled down her spine. The water had begun to cool down.**

**Just as she was about to lower herself into the bath, she spotted a scale (a scale!) in the corner and couldn't resist the urge to check her status. One hundred flashed red on the tiny screen. She'd been one hundred and four pounds at her last check-up, hadn't she?**

**Now she was one hundred. One pound away from double digits.**

**One pound!**

**It was probably the flu or whatever strain of cold she'd caught that had caused the weight loss.**

**And so easy, too!**

**_Keep it up_.**

**But I can't be sick forever, she thought.**

_**Don't eat. It's that simple.**_

**Not such a bad idea"­Marissa patted herself on the back. She slid into the tub and cleared away some of the foam from the bubble bath. The heat of the bath water seemed to permeate her skin, soothing her sore legs and arms.**

**Critiquing herself in the mirror facing the tub, Marissa was pleased to see the roundness of her shoulders fast disappearing. In their place were the traces of the ends of her collarbones, and a sharp jut outwards and down to her arm. Still, reaching under the water, Marissa let out a sharp cry when she was able to grasp her stomach with her fingers.**

**It wasn't supposed to be there.**

**She'd have to work harder.**

**This sick business had to be kept up as long as possible; once she'd milked it for all it's worth, then she'd need to become dedicated. Truly dedicated.**

_**You're disgusting. How do you look in the mirror everyday?**_

**I'm trying, Marissa thought, I'm determined, really, I am.**

_**Prove it.**_

**Sighing, Marissa gulped in air and slid beneath the water to wet her hair, missing her mother's worried knock at the door.**

**Underwater, she let her air go bubble-by-bubble. Marissa stayed down there. She knew that if she if she concentrated hard enough, she could almost breathe without air. **

**Almost.**

**She broke the surface in an instant and she gasped for breath. She looked at her reflection of brown hair plastered to the sides of her face and deeply flushed cheeks almost steaming from the water.**

**Marissa was weak. But in that moment or so of feeling invincible, her spirits had been uplifted.**

**She heard her name. "What, Mom?"**

**"Are you okay? I've been calling you and you haven't answered."**

**"I'm _fine_." Marissa sighed. "Go away and let me relax."**

**Marissa frowned as she slid back into the water. Her mother could be incredibly pushy at times.**

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**"Is something wrong with dinner?" Jimmy asked. "I thought this was your favorite meal."**

**Marissa stared at the rosemary chicken breast on her plate, along with the mashed potatoes and squash. She put her fork down on top of the chicken and took a sip of water.**

**"I'm really not hungry, Daddy."**

**"Sweetie, please eat something. You've hardly eaten anything since you've been sick." Julie looked expectantly at Marissa.**

_**Don't. You don't need anything.**_

**Jimmy stopped eating. Even Kaitlyn swallowed a mouthful of chicken and let her knife and fork drop to the plate.**

**All six eyes on her, Marissa's heart stopped. What was she to do? Well, she reasoned, if she cut her chicken into six pieces and ate two, it would be okay. More than okay. It would be like a game. She'd allow herself three chews and a swallow.**

_**It's not okay. Not okay at all.**_

**She cut her chicken and pressed a piece into her mouth. Her stomach rumbling a bit, Marissa wanted to pat herself on the back. If she decided how much she was going to eat before she did, and made sure she didn't go overboard, she would be okay. Marissa wouldn't be _as_ hungry anymore. She'd have a safe amount of food in the bottom of her stomach. And it would stop her parents' worrying.**

**One chew, two chews, three, and she swallowed. Julie beamed at her and picked up her forked. Jimmy resumed his loud chewing and Kaitlyn her rude open-mouthed manners.**

**Marissa caught another piece of chicken on her fork and chewed it three times. She picked up her glass. Drinking in-between every bite would make her fuller, faster, and give off the illusion that she was eating a lot.**

**She decided to go with three forkfuls of mashed potatoes. Of course she'd skimp a bit, not totally heaving potatoes all over her fork, but it would attract unnecessary attention if she cut them up too.**

**After the first forkful, Marissa sipped her water and wiped at the corners of her mouth with a napkin.**

**Dinner passed by quickly now that Marissa had something to occupy herself with.**

**She excused herself when Julie brought out the dessert, mumbling about not wanting an upset stomach again.**

**Upstairs, Marissa examined her stomach. It wasn't protruding in the slightest bit, the way it usually did after a binge. And she wasn't feeling sick with fullness, either. It was a comfortable balance between full and hungry. She quite liked being in between.**

_**Not good enough.**_

**She ignored the wheedling voice for once.**

**Marissa was quite confident that she'd be a winner in this new game.**


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Thanks to **NaijaChiqa** for her excellent beta-ing.

**Chapter 1** - November 18, 2001

**Chapter 2** - May 29, 2001

**Chapter 3** - December 1, 2001

**Chapter 4** - June 6, 2001

**Lit -** Summer is in this chapter. She is also scheduled to make an appearance next chapter. You'll see the effects of Marissa's illness on her throughout the story.

**With-hel - **More interaction between the girls? Definitely. I'm glad to hear that your friends intervened. It's really a life-ruining disease and to hear that you had support even when your family didn't suspect a thing is really nice to know.

**Famous - **Yes, I am on the road to recovery, I guess you could call it that. But every day is a struggle for me. Writing this story, I hope, will be like an outlet for my bottled-up emotions and will give me the strength I need to fight this ongoing battle.

* * *

December 12, 2001

"Hello, Marissa. How are you feeling?" Dr. Jones asked, walking into the examination room. Her smile crinkling her under-eye circles, Marissa tugged at her sweatshirt and smoothed her black terrycloth pants.

"I feel fine." She rubbed her forearms.

"How are your sessions with Dr. Shore going?"

Marissa shrugged. "He's nice. Did he say anything about me?"

"He's had only positive things to say about you so far. I really shouldn't be telling you this, but you're his favorite patient. He adores you, really." Dr. Jones winked at her and turned to the scale. "Let's get you weighed."

She sighed and slipped off her sandals, walking over towards the scale in the corner.

"Sweatshirt too, Marissa," Dr. Jones reminded her. She knew that some anorexics hid weights under baggy shirts or sweaters or even coins in their pockets or hoods. And while she doubted that Marissa had thought of these techniques, it was better to squash the slightest chance in the first place.

Marissa pulled the sweatshirt over her head, revealing her white cotton t-shirt, and handed it to her mother. Stepping onto the scale, she waited patiently for Dr. Jones to adjust the scales, closing her eyes, not bothering to catch a glimpse of her weight. Marissa was scared of what the numbers might mean to the doctor. She hoped that the five bottles of water she'd chugged as a breakfast weighed her down at least a couple of pounds. Because she had to pee like nobody's business.

Lately she'd been dead tired. Walking up the stairs was a struggle and Marissa was having a hard time hiding this from her parents, and she hadn't the slightest idea how she was going to keep hiding it. She slept in fitful bursts and woke up several times throughout the night.

A shiver ran down her spine and so she clutched her arms, rubbing them.

And another thing.

She was constantly freezing.

Dr. Jones noticed Marissa's trembling. "Are you cold?"

"A little," Marissa admitted, and bit her lip hard. She should've said 'no' but Dr. Jones had seen her shivering, right? she sighed.

"Marissa, you now weigh eighty-seven. That's five pounds less than last time and far too little for a growing girl of your height and age."

Eighty-seven. She'd cracked the 90's. She was dropping weight without really trying. Sure, she was barely eating, but she had no appetite. The very sight of food disgusted her - it really did - and she knew her digestive system was all out of whack.

Marissa would've smiled, if she had the energy to. Instead, she stepped off the scale and took her sweatshirt from her mother's lap, yanking it down over her hair and sitting in a chair.

Even the cushioning didn't soften the bone Marissa sat uncomfortably on. Her coccyx bone, she'd learned that last year in science class. She wiggled around in the seat, unable to get settled.

"Marissa." Dr. Jones waited until Marissa could focus on her, "Do you understand what you're doing to yourself? You're very sick." Turning to Julie, she added, "I think the hospital is our best bet. Marissa's not going to get better without some intervention."

Julie's jaw dropped. "Why is she losing more weight?" she demanded to know, her voice rising two decibels higher than its usual shrill, "And when can we get her to the hospital?" She stomped her high-heeled foot on the floor.

"Mom..." Marissa began.

"Mrs. Cooper, please. Sometimes these things are out of our control. Now, I'd like to speak with both you and your husband before we consider hospitalization. But the sooner we can get Marissa help, the better."

Mariss watched Dr. Jones write in her file.

"I don't need to go to the hospital," Marissa protested weakly, but she knew she did - well, she knew that she wouldn't be provided any other options so it was best to listen to them...sometimes. She'd do whatever they said, if they'd just let her sleep...she leaned her head against her arm and squeezed her eyes shut, allowing two lonely tears to escape, hurt that her mother never seemed to realize her sadness.

_You're disgusting. And weak. Stay strong. You were doing so well, until now._

I know, thought Marissa, but they won't leave me alone. I'm just _so_ tired.

_Suck it up. You'll soon achieve perfection._

I'm right, I'll be perfect. Just two more pounds, that's all. I promise. Marissa smiled to herself.

"Marissa? Dr. Jones is talking to you!" Julie shook her arm. "Are you sleeping?"

Shaking visions of sleep out of her eyes, Marissa pulled her head back up and blinked at her mother. "What...sorry?" she said.

"Marissa," Dr. Jones again struggled to maintain eye contact, "I was just asking you if you were experiencing any other problems, other than extreme coldness. But I guess I can add tiredness to the list of symptoms."

"Yeah." Marissa yawned and realized what she'd said. "I mean, I've had so much homework lately that I stay up really late. That's all."

Dr. Jones nodded, suspecting a lie but not wanting to confront Marissa and risk a fight. She looked at Julie Cooper, sensing how much she wanted her daughter in the hospital, and she guessed Jimmy would feel the same way.

"Dr. Jones, is there any way you'd be able to make a house call? My younger daughter is having a sleepover party for her birthday and Jimmy and I obviously have to supervise." Julie glanced at Marissa. Her hair was limp and stringy, and it had lost its former lustrous appearance. Bags hung under her eyes, purply blue veins showing through her sallow complexion.

It was then that Julie realized: Marissa looked like hell. Or at least like she'd just survived hell.

Dr. Jones replied, "Certainly, Julie, considering the circumstances...you'd best get Marissa home and put her to bed though. She looks like she's about to pass out any second now. I'll call you before I stop by."

Julie nodded and Marissa stood up, leaning on the chair for support. She opened the door with claw-like hands, veins and joints popping out of her pale, yellowish skin.

A passing patient, there for a routine check-up, whimpered as she passed Marissa. To her, she looked like a zombie and she wondered if she had cancer or another terminal disease.

Marissa sat in the back seat of the car. Julie had insisted lately, for she was afraid that, God forbid they get into an accident, as fragile as she was. The passenger seat airbag would crush Marissa to death.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The doorbell rang and Julie sidestepped one of Kaitlyn's friends to answer it, assuming it would be Dr. Jones.

"Hey, Mrs. Coop— uh, is something wrong?" Summer stood at the door, pink Kipling bag over her shoulder.

"No, Summer...what are you doing here?" Julie whipped her head around as the sound of something falling and little girls screaming floated to her ears.

"Um, Marissa invited me to sleep over." Summer shifted her weight onto her right foot and tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. "But if this is like, a bad time...I can come over another time."

Julie shook her head. Marissa was going into the hospital soon, if she had anything to say about it and it was best if Summer saw her now. "Come in, Marissa's in her room. And excuse the confusion – Kaity's having a sleepover party."

Summer smiled. "I forgot it was her birthday. Tell Kaitlyn I said happy birthday." She walked past Julie and into the house.

Summer knocked at the door. "Come in," Marissa said. Summer entered and dropped her bag on the floor, shutting the door with a kick of her foot.

"Ohmigod, Coop, you look awful! What's wrong?" Summer jumped onto the bed, where Marissa was huddled beneath the covers.

"You saw me, like, four days ago, Sum," Marissa told her, "And I look the same. Fine."

They'd had a five-day weekend because it was the birthday weekend of the founder of Harbor School, and were scheduled to go back to school the next day.

"No..." Summer shook her head and wriggled under the covers. "You look _a lot _different."

"Well, I'm fine. It's just...my doctor wants to put me in the hospital, Sum." Marissa buried her head in Summer's neck and began to sob. Summer felt the warm tears sliding down her shoulder and collarbone.

"Shh..." she held Marissa close, "You'll be okay...sweetie, look at me." Marissa craned her neck so she was eye level with Summer. "Marissa – you need help. Please believe me, this is for the best."

"Oh, Sum," Marissa wailed, "I don't want to go...what's going to happen to me there?"

Summer took a deep breath. Seeing Marissa like this – when she was usually calm, cool, collected, and confident – was rendering her speechless. "You're going to get better."

"But I'm okay, really I am. I was sick like, two weeks ago. That's why I lost the weight...Summer, you have to believe me. No one else will." Marissa wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, rubbing her nose against it as well and leaving a trail of wetness down it.

"Marissa, listen to me," Summer pleaded, "I hate seeing you like this. Your doctor is right, you need to get better."

"I'm trying, Sum! You don't understand. Nobody understands. Get away from me." Marissa slipped out from under Summer's arm. "I don't need anyone! I'm fine just how I am. You just don't get it..." She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, wobbling unsteadily for a minute as the room swam around her. She slowly let herself drop to the carpet.

Summer leaned over the side of the bed. "Marissa..." But what was she to say? Summer thought. Marissa would refuse to listen to her. All she had to offer was comfort. Her parents, and doctor, would hopefully get her out of this mess.

Summer wished she had spoken up earlier when she'd first learned about Marissa's bulimia. But it seemed as though her best friend was anorexic. And she blamed herself for letting it all get out of hand.

She helped Marissa back onto the bed and tucked her snugly under the covers. Then she held Marissa close, feeling the familiar heave of Marissa's chest as she cried for everything that had gone wrong.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The doorbell rang again. This time, it was Kaitlyn who opened it.

"Hi," she said cautiously, her head peering around the open door.

"Hi, Kaitlyn, I'm Dr. Jones. Is your mom or dad home?" She bent down and patted her on the head. Kaitlyn hated it when adults did that to her just because she was short. "Is it your birthday?"

Kaitlyn nodded and grinned, showing a mouthful of gums. She had just lost her two front teeth and two of her bottom teeth had barely begun growing in.

Julie came to the door, followed closely by Jimmy. "Thank you for coming, Dr. Jones." Julie ushered the doctor in and led her to Jimmy's study, shutting the door behind them.

"What about the kids...?" Jimmy asked his wife.

"They'll be fine for a few minutes. I've just settled them down with 'Clueless' and that should keep them occupied." She sat down and turned her attention towards Dr. Jones.

"I'm sure Julie has been keeping you updated on Marissa," Dr. Jones began, "And I think that we need to admit her to a hospital."

Jimmy's eyes grew wide with fear. This was his daughter, his precious, perfect, firstborn daughter, the one he never had to worry about because she was the one who always did the right thing. "Julie did mention...But I had no idea _really_."

"I know this might be hard to accept, Mr. Cooper, but your daughter is extremely sick. It's not a matter of 'she's just lost a few pounds naturally' anymore. She's severely underweight and could be in serious danger. Now, I'm not qualified to help her recover fully, and I'll admit it. But in the hospital there are trained professionals, entire units for teenagers and adults alike suffering from eating disorders. And there, they'll be able to monitor every morsel that enters and leaves Marissa's body." Dr. Jones' eyes wandered around the mahogany study and stopped at the two Tiffany lamps on the desk.

"Well," Jimmy said, not really sure what to do. To be honest, he was in a state of shock. Marissa's health was in serious jeopardy and he hadn't even noticed. "When can we take her to the hospital?"

Julie put her head in her hands and shook. "Never mind that, for a second, Jimmy. Dr. Jones, how did it get this bad? How could we let Marissa become this sick? Am I really that terrible of a mother?" she asked, her voice cracking.

Dr. Jones decided to address Jimmy's question first. "Jimmy, it could take anywhere from a few days to several weeks. Of course, the sooner the bet –"

"That's unacceptable," Jimmy heard himself say. He was surprised his voice was so calm. "I want her in tomorrow."

"Mr. Cooper, so do I, believe me – and that takes me to your concerns, Mrs. Cooper. I'm not sure how Marissa's condition got this bad so quickly – and before you tell me that I'm a terrible doctor and what was I thinking, let me say this, Marissa was sick a week or two ago and I suspect she may have lost weight because of that. And since then – it just continued to drop. I thought we were handling the situation but obviously it's trickier than I expected."

"Julie, honey, you're not a bad mother. This isn't your fault. Marissa is sick." Jimmy took her hand in his and rubbed it soothingly. He didn't seem angry anymore. "Dr. Jones, just tell me who to call and I'll get Marissa admitted tomorrow."

Dr. Jones nodded and took out her cell phone. "Let me see what I can do," she said, turning away from the Coopers so that they could have a moment of alone time to console each other.

Dr. Jones left the Cooper house after giving Jimmy the numbers of several inpatient treatment facilities.

He stared at the piece of paper in his hand and, with a worried sigh, dialed the first one, the Brea Hospital Neuropsychiatric Center. And then the Children's Hospital at Stanford. The South Coast Medical Center sounded like the perfect match for Marissa, but they only took people eighteen and older suffering from eating disorders.

Jimmy knew he'd succeeded when he called Lucile Packard Children's Hospital. With a 15-bed center in Mountain View, they provided an inpatient program and were willing to accept Marissa immediately. Plus, they were associated with El Camino Hospital, an upstanding hospital that Jimmy knew of and trusted.

Dr. Livingston had said that they didn't normally accept patients just like that, but he'd already received a referral from Dr. Jones and thought that the center would help Marissa. She would not continue to see Dr. Shore on a weekly basis, or so Jimmy assumed. He'd call Greg in the morning and explain the situation to him.

Mountain View was a good six hours away from Newport, and Jimmy didn't expect Dr. Shore to make the trip to see Marissa. There would be qualified professionals on hand twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, to guide Marissa.

Jimmy walked slowly up the steps then, dreading what he'd have to do next. Julie had opted out of telling Marissa; instead she lit Kaitlyn's birthday cake candles and told her to make a wish.

He knocked on Marissa's door.

"Come in," Summer called. Jimmy entered, stepping over Summer's overnight bag, and saw Marissa sleeping in her arms. "She's sleeping."

Jimmy nodded. "Summer, sweetheart, could you give me a few minutes alone with her?"

"Sure, Mr. Cooper." Summer removed her arm from underneath Marissa's back and crawled out of the bed. "Is everything alright?"

He smiled slightly. "No, Summer." There was no point in lying. Marissa was sure to tell her best friend everything afterwards.

"Should I go home?" Summer gestured to her bag.

"There's no need. But would you mind going to help Julie with Kaity?"

Summer left the room and Jimmy sat down on the bed. He took her hand in his and shook it gently. "Marissa, princess, wake up."

She opened her eyes. "Summer? Oh...daddy."

Jimmy tried to ignore the bones poking his skin. She looked horrible, beautiful because she was his daughter and always would be, but truthfully, she looked like death.

"Marissa...I don't really know how to tell you...but we're taking you to a hospital tomorrow. In Mountain View."

Marissa's eyes clouded over with tears. "Why?" she asked quietly. And then, voice rising to a shout, "Why? How can you do this to me? I thought you loved me!"

Jimmy hugged her then, but she struggled to escape his grasp. He held her tight though, and when she stopped struggling, started to cry.

"I do love you," he whispered, not sure she could even hear him, "I just don't want to lose you."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Marissa asked.

Summer shook her head. "It's late, you should be resting up. You've got a long drive ahead of you tomorrow." Her voice wavered on the 'tomorrow'.

Marissa threw her arms around her. "I'm going to miss you, Sum."

"Love you," Summer choked out, before opening the car door.

"I'll try to call you when I get there," Marissa called after her. Summer and Jimmy waved from the car as he backed it out of the driveway. Marissa shivered as she watched the car fade from view, then hurried back into the house.

Kaitlyn and her friends were all sleeping, and Julie was in her bedroom. Marissa climbed into her mother's bed and curled up next to her under the covers.

"Oh, Marissa..." was all Julie could say.

_Oh, Marissa._


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Sorry I haven't updated in a while, things have been really out of control. As most of you at TWoP know, I've been admitted into an outpatient program right now. Plus, the pressure of college is bearing down on me as well. Sorry again. Thanks for your patience.

**Chapter 1** - November 18, 2001

**Chapter 2** - May 29, 2001

**Chapter 3** - December 1, 2001

**Chapter 4** - June 6, 2001

**Chapter 5** - December 12, 2001

* * *

June 19, 2001

"Marissa, would you like some more chicken?" Janet Fisher asked, smiling at Holly's friend.

"No thanks," she replied, setting her fork down on her plate.

"Are you sure? You hardly touched it. If you don't like it, I can get you something else. How about I order a pizza for you girls?"

"Mom!" Holly snapped. "She's fine. She's obviously not hungry. Lay off."

Janet nodded while Marissa turned to Holly, mouthing 'thanks'.

"Summer, would _you_ like some more chicken?" Holly's mom smiled when Summer nodded then heaped a chicken wing onto her plate.

After dinner the girls headed up to Holly's room.

"I'm going in the shower," Holly announced, opening the door to her bathroom and going in. Soon after, Summer and Marissa heard the water running.

Marissa flopped onto the bed and picked up the latest issue of Seventeen that had been lying on Holly's night table. Summer lay down on the floor.

"Brad Pitt is _so_ hot." Marissa sighed and turned the page, looking at Summer from the corner of her eye. "Sum, d'you wanna see the Fast and the Furious on Friday?"

"Yeah, definitely!" She groaned and pulled herself onto the bed. "Where's Holly's remote? Let's order a movie."

Marissa picked up the remote from the night table and tossed it at Summer. Then she picked up the magazine, scribbling in it every now and then.

"Guess what? I'm a Queen Bee!" she exclaimed.

"What are you talking about?"

"This quiz I took - it was like, where do you fit in with your friends? And I'm the queen bee. Here, you try it."

"That's okay, really."

"Fine, I'll read you the questions. One - you and your friends go to an amusement park. There's five of you and only four seats on the coaster. Do you a) volunteer to stay behind - you say you don't really like roller coasters that much anyway; b) suggest that you play rock, paper, scissors...it's the only fair way, or c) choose your least favorite friend of the group and say, "Erica, why don't you sit this one out?", and stare her down until she agrees. I know what I think you are, but what's your choice?"

Summer switched on the TV and tuned Marissa out. She loved her but she could be pretty annoying sometimes. Especially with these quizzes, which Summer always seemed to do poorly on.

"Summer! A, B, or C?" Marissa asked, thwacking her with the magazine.

"Oh, I don't know...B, I guess." Summer clicked on the 'guide' button and began to flip through the available movies.

"Really? I would've picked A for you. I was C, of course, but we're totally different people, you know?"

"Yeah. Sure. How about Save the Last Dance?"

"Whatev. Two -"

"Marissa! I don't want to take your stupid quiz!" Summer sighed, pressing the appropriate buttons on the remote to order the movie. She turned up the volume as the FBI warning came on. "Shut up - the movie's starting."

"Jesus, Summer, all you had to do was _say_ something. Don't get your panties in a bunch." Marissa smiled a little, her eyes sparkling at her own wit.

"You're not funny, you know that, Coop?"

"Ha. Can you turn off the light?" She kicked off her shoes and lay down on her stomach.

"You," Summer responded.

"Please? Sum, come on. I'm already comfortable and all."

Sighing, Summer rolled off the bed and flicked off the lights. Marissa smiled. She had won; she always won, and it was nothing new. She really was a queen bee.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Holly, are you girls up? I made chocolate chip pancakes," Janet called from downstairs.

Marissa yawned and opened her eyes. Holly's leg was on top of hers and Summer's hand was on her face.

"You guys, get up," she said, hitting Holly gently and squeezing Summer's hand. Both girls groaned. "Holly! Summer!"

Marissa got out of the bed and went into Holly's bathroom, turning on the faucet and washing her face. She took the toothbrush she kept at Holly's house and squeezed some Crest onto it, and brushed her teeth. Not bothering to shut the door, she went to the bathroom, and then washed her hands.

Once she was done, she shook Holly and Summer. When that didn't get a response from either of them, she sighed and said, "Fine. You'll be sorry when there aren't any pancakes left."

With that, she turned on the lights and left the room.

Janet Fisher was in the kitchen pouring glasses of orange juice. She looked up when Marissa entered. "Have a good night's sleep?" she asked Marissa.

"Yeah, thanks. Summer and Holly won't get up," she told her.

"That's okay. You were always the early riser." Janet smiled and gestured towards the table. "Help yourself, sweetheart. I'm going to get my hair done."

"Thanks," she answered, sitting down at the table. A plate piled high with pancakes oozing chocolate was in the center of the table. Marissa took the top pancake, still steaming, and set it on her plate. She stared at it, enticed by the smell, and then began to cut it up into six pieces. After four, though, she stopped herself. This is ridiculous, she thought, I can eat a pancake without cutting it up into precise measurements.

_No, you can't. _

I can, if I think I can, at least I think, Marissa argued with herself, but a moment later she found herself dividing the next piece into two. I'll just have four pieces, that's two thirds of a pancake, and Holly and Summer will never know that I only had one pancake, she said to herself.

She stabbed a piece with her fork and lifted it to her mouth, chewing slowly and deliberately.

Pouring the orange juice down the drain, Marissa set her plate in the sink. She went into the living room and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until she found something to watch.

Marissa heard footsteps over an hour later.

"Mom?" Holly called. "Marissa?"

"In here," Marissa yelled, and Holly and Summer came running into the room.

"Is my mom home?" Holly asked, her eyes focused questioningly on Marissa. "And why didn't you wake us up?"

"She's at the salon," Marissa told her, "And I _tried_ to wake you guys up but..."

Summer rubbed her stomach. "Did you eat yet? I'm starved."

"Yeah, I had some pancakes. Your mom made so many, Holly. I had, like, five pancakes but I barely made a dent in the stack."

"Let's go eat," Summer said to Holly, pulling her by the arm. The two of them disappeared into the kitchen.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"God, it's like, such perfect beach weather." Holly spread her towel on the sand. She kicked off her Juicy Couture sandals and shimmied out of her shorts.

"It's _always_ perfect beach weather, Hol," Marissa reminded her, lowering her sunglasses from her hair to her eyes and laying her towel on the sand as well. Summer put her towel on the other side of Marissa's. Marissa took off her terrycloth tube dress and lay on her back.

"God, Marissa, you're so skinny," Holly said, sitting cross-legged on her towel.

"So are you," Summer pointed out. Holly looked down at her flat, tan stomach and sighed.

"But not like Marissa. She's like, naturally _that_ skinny."

Marissa smiled. Holly was on the cross country team and cheerleading and she ran ten miles a week, while she herself played 'princess' tennis twice a week, and if you could call that a real workout...

"Shut up, Sum. You're so tiny. I'd kill to be like you." Holly took her iPod out of her peach tote bag and inserted the earpieces.

"I still don't get how you got an iPod when they haven't even come out yet," Summer said.

"Sum, are you kidding me? Holly's dad is like, second in command to that Apple guy, Steve I think his name is...of course _she_ gets one a few months early!" Marissa hit Summer playfully on the arm.

She then lay down on her towel and closed her eyes, determined to soak up a few rays on her lean body.

All three girls were soon half-asleep and didn't notice two boys sneak up to their towels.

Luke turned toward Chip and nodded, "One, two, three!" They dumped two buckets of water on the girls, who immediately squealed and jumped up.

"Who did that?" Marissa screeched, taking off her sunglasses and turning around. Her expression softened. "Oh, hey Luke."

Luke bent down to kiss her. "Hey babe. You looked hot, what can I say...?"

Marissa shook her head, but couldn't help but laugh. "You're so sweet," she said, and kissed him again.

"Wow, you guys, this is like, a public place," Chip chided them.

"Who the hell cares?" Summer asked coyly. She'd had a crush on Chip for the longest time, but he was into Marissa. Everyone knew it but Luke didn't seem to care because Marissa was his. If only Chip would see her in the same light as he saw Marissa.

Chip sat down on Summer's legs, kicking off his Air Force Ones.

"Get off!" Summer said halfheartedly. As much as Chip was cutting off her circulation, she welcomed any contact with him.

Holly took her earpieces out. "Shut up, you guys. I can't hear my music!"

Marissa rolled her eyes. "Ignore her," she said to the boys, "she's just PMS-ing."

"Am not!" Holly insisted, blushing. She poked Marissa warningly.

"She totally is," Summer agreed, giggling and exchanging a knowing glance with Marissa.

"We're gonna go get Balboa Bars. You guys want anything?" Luke asked, pointing to the ice cream stand, about sixty yards from their spot.

"Sure," Marissa answered, nodding and looking at her friends for their approval. When she was satisfied, she smiled at the boys and waved her hand to shoo them away. "Thanks. I love you."

Luke smiled tightly and hurried away with Chip. Marissa propped up on her side so she was facing Summer.

"You so like Chip," she accused. It was sad, really; everyone knew that Chip had a crush on her, not Summer.

"What? What are you talking about?" Summer felt her face grow warm. Why the hell did Marissa care anyways?

"Come on, Sum, we're best friends. You can tell me," Marissa said confidentially, patting Summer on the arm so she knew she was serious.

"Okay, okay...God, yeah I like him, okay?" Summer rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, it's fine, don't get pissed at _me_. It's not _my_ fault he likes me and not you..."

Summer's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me?"

"Everyone knows it, Summer, it's not like I care, I've got Luke. I was just telling you...I wouldn't waste your time on him because he doesn't like you. Chill!" Marissa lowered her sunglasses to cover her eyes and flipped over so she was laying on her stomach.

"Bitch," Summer muttered under her breath, tears choking her. She blinked furiously and then shut her eyes. How dare she say that to her? Sure, she was her best friend, but sometimes Marissa was such a bitch that Summer wanted to hurt her...badly. Just because guys liked her more didn't give her the right to be obnoxious.

"Hmm?" Marissa murmured, "Did you say something, Sum?"

"No...I think I'm gonna call my dad and have him pick me up..."

"Why? It's a perfect day for tanning. And I thought we were going to the movies later? Are you still sleeping over?"

"I don't know...I'll call you later." Summer shook out her towel, accidentally on purpose getting some sand in Marissa's hair. She picked up her sandals and threw them into her beach bag, along with her shorts.

"Love ya," Marissa called, as Summer walked away, fuming. She stomped her feet in the hot sand. She grabbed her cell phone out of her bag and dialed her home number, praying for someone to pick up.

She'd just gotten the answering machine and was planning to leave an angry message for her father when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Chip asked, holding two Balboa Bars. His curly dark brown hair just covered his eyes. God. He was so adorable. Too bad he didn't like her.

"Home...well, I can't get in touch with my dad, so I guess nowhere," Summer said.

Chip held out the Balboa Bar. "I live five minutes away. You want to walk to my house?"

Summer accepted the ice cream and nodded. "Are you sure...you wouldn't rather be with Marissa...and Luke?"

He scoffed and began to walk. Summer followed him. "Those two are annoying together. They're so sickeningly sweet...if you know what I mean."

"Well, that's not really what I meant..." Summer took her sandals out of her bag and slid them on. Chip raised an eyebrow. "Everybody knows that you like Marissa. Okay. That's it."

She quickened her pace and Chip hurried to catch up with her. "Hey, wait a minute! I don't even like her...I mean, she's hot, duh, but like, I'm into a different type of girl..."

"And what type would that be?" Summer felt her heart quicken but kept her voice level and bored.

"Your type," Chip answered honestly, placing a hand on her shoulder. He tilted his head downwards and Summer closed her eyes, as his lips met hers. She opened her mouth and felt Chip's tongue wiggle around a bit. He obviously hadn't had much experience, but then again neither had she. She wrapped her arms around the back of his head and pulled him in closer...

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The phone rang as soon as Summer walked in the door. She ran to the kitchen and grabbed the phone out of its cradle.

"Hello?"

"Summer! Where have you been all day? I've been trying to reach you," Marissa said.

Summer didn't bother to ask Marissa why she hadn't tried her cell phone. "I was out."

"Where? Ohmigosh Sum, I was sooo worried."

"Really?" Summer asked nonchalantly, though she was quite interested. Marissa had been worried about her? Marissa had taken enough time to think of someone other than herself, or Luke?

"Yeah. So what's this I hear about you hooking up with Chip?"

So that was it. "Where'd you hear that?"

Marissa sighed. Summer had no reason to get snippy with her. "Chip told Luke, who told me, of course. I thought you didn't like him!"

No, Summer thought, annoyed, you said that he didn't like me, that I didn't stand a chance with him. "Well I do," she said coolly, "Do you have a problem with that?"

"God, sorry I asked. Are you coming over or not?"

"Do you want me to?" Summer wasn't really in the mood for Marissa's constant chatter about Luke and herself, but she had nothing else to do...

"Of course! You're my best friend, Sum. Do you need a ride?"

"Yeah, my dad's not home. Thanks." Summer set the phone down and ran up the stairs to her bedroom to pack her overnight bag.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Daddy? We have to go pick Summer up," Marissa yelled.

Jimmy appeared in the living room a moment later, keys in hand. "You ready, kiddo?"

"Don't call me kiddo." Marissa said, stomping out of the room. She went outside and got into the car. So Summer and Chip had hooked up, she thought. Chip liked her, though. Or he was supposed to. What did he see in Summer in the first place? Summer was her best friend but she was so small and...young looking.

Chip would get bored soon enough and move on. Marissa smiled knowingly. She would always have Luke, the best looking guy at Harbor, while Summer's heart would constantly be broken. And even if there were better looking guys, which there wouldn't be, Marissa thought, at least she had _something_.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Here's another chapter because you've all been so patient. Thanks!

**Chapter 1** - November 18, 2001

**Chapter 2** - May 29, 2001

**Chapter 3** - December 1, 2001

**Chapter 4** - June 6, 2001

**Chapter 5** - December 12, 2001

**Chapter 6 **-June 19, 2001

* * *

December 13, 2001

"Are we there yet?" Kaitlyn asked for the fourth time since they'd left Newport at eight-thirty that morning.

Jimmy checked his watch. "Not quite there yet, sweetie."

"But I'm bored," Kaitlyn protested, "And Marissa's sleeping. I want a pony."

"Kaitlyn," Julie warned, "Behave. You can watch a movie on the DVD player if you wear the headphones."

Kaitlyn pouted. "I hate wearing these headphones," she said, taking the clunky noise-eliminating headphones that her mother handed to her.

"Kaitlyn...put them on. Just be quiet. Do you want to watch Model Behavior, Spy Kids, or Monsters, Inc.?"

"A Bug's Life," she replied.

"You're watching Monsters, Inc."

"But mommy..."

"Kaitlyn!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!" Kaitlyn shook Marissa.

Marissa rubbed her eyes and looked out of the car window and saw a large brick building. The hospital. Treatment center. Whatever. No matter what they called it, it was still the place they were going to fatten her up.

The very thought made her eyes watery, but no, she wouldn't cry. Because that would show weakness, it would show that she actually cared about leaving her family and entering treatment.

"Kaity, stop." Marissa said, suddenly realizing that Kaitlyn was still jiggling her arm. She unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car, reaching her hands over her head to stretch.

"Marissa, take Kaity inside. Your mom's already in there, filling out the paperwork." Jimmy opened the trunk and took out Marissa's Louis Vuitton rolling suitcase. It wasn't large, and was only halfway filled. The center had given them a minimal packing list and Marissa hadn't had the energy to argue about it.

Kaitlyn scrambled out of the car and Marissa gave the door a light shove. The sun was shining a little too brightly for Marissa's liking.

Marissa felt Kaitlyn's small, smooth hand wrap around hers and she squeezed it reassuringly. They walked into the hospital and sat in two cushioned orange chairs. Julie was at the main desk, talking animatedly with the secretary.

Marissa sighed and put a hand over her forehead. Being in a car for hours upon hours, then going into direct sunlight had made her extremely dizzy. She closed her eyes for what seemed like a moment.

"Marissa, Marissa, come on!" Kaitlyn tugged on her shirt. Marissa opened her eyes and saw her parents gesturing for her to get up. She slowly stood up, squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them.

It was time to face the music.

She yawned and quickened her pace to catch up with her parents, Kaitlyn tagging along behind her.

A tall man was talking with Jimmy, running a hand through his wavy light brown hair. He turned to the side as Marissa stepped into line between Jimmy and Julie.

"Hello, Marissa, I'm Dr. Livingston," he said, greeting her.

"Hi," she replied, silently assessing him.

"We're going to take you up to your room, and then I'll let you get situated while I talk to your parents for a bit. How does that sound?"

"Great." Even in her exhausted state, she couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her tone.

Dr. Livingston smiled, and Julie glared. "Marissa!" she warned, "Mind your manners." Then, regaining her composure, she said, "Shall we go up?" She hit the button for the elevator.

In the mirror-walled elevator, Marissa watched her parents, Kaitlyn, and the doctor. Kaitlyn twirled a pigtail around her pudgy finger and licked her lips. Jimmy's eyes were darting around the confined space nervously. He kept sneaking glances at Marissa. Julie tapped her foot impatiently; Marissa was saddened to find that even with these circumstances, she was an inconvenience to her mother. Arms crossed, Dr. Livingston kept his eyes on the elevator doors.

Marissa smiled, and then quickly frowned down, remembering that everyone could see her expression in the mirrors. She was the cause of all of this. She had power over them. All of them. They were here because of _her_.

The doors slid open and the Coopers followed Dr. Livingston down a bare hallway. He stopped at a door marked N219.

"Are you ready?" he asked Marissa. Julie and Jimmy nodded for her and held hands. He opened the door and held it open for them.

He led them down another hallway, past an open area with several tables, as well as some closed doors. Finally, he knocked on a door. "Everybody decent?"

"Yes!" came the answer, and then he opened the door.

Two girls were huddled on the bed nearest the door, reading a magazine.

"Hi, Dr. Livingston," the girl on top of the covers said.

"Jane, Hanna. I'd like you to meet Marissa. She'll be staying here. Marissa, meet your new roommate, Hanna."

Marissa eyed the girl's flowing chestnut locks, her big blue eyes and her ashen complexion. She would be very beautiful, Marissa admitted to herself, if not for that pasty skin tone and gaunt face.

"Hi, Marissa," Jane and Hanna chorused, pasting smiles on their faces like macaroni on construction paper for a kindergarten art project. The smiles were...practiced, she decided, and not all that friendly.

Marissa just looked at her father, who managed a weak smile.

"Jane, why don't you go put on a movie in the lounge? You'll be able to talk with the girls later." Dr. Livingston smiled as Jane picked herself off the bed and walked a bit unsteadily out of the room. He turned towards Marissa. "Why don't you get yourself acquainted with Hanna? I'd like to speak with your parents." He waited for her to respond, almost as if asking for her seal of approval. Marissa forced herself to nod and took a tentative step towards Hanna's bed.

"Kiddo, I'm just going to leave this here for you...wherever you want to put it." Jimmy swallowed quickly and pointed to her suitcase. Dr. Livingston held the door open and Jimmy and Julie exited. He winked at Marissa before shutting the door.

"So, uh...what are you in here for?" Marissa placed her hand on her hip.

Hanna scrutinized her for a few seconds. "Are you going to just stand there?" she asked, "Or are you going to make yourself at home? Because from the look of you, you're going to be here for a while."

Marissa smirked. "Yeah, right. I'll be out of here in no time. My parents won't make me stay for long; really, it's more of a visit."

Hanna raised an eyebrow, and Marissa felt compelled to think of her neighbor, Mr. Cohen. Only Hanna's eyebrows weren't as prominent as his were.

"Do you have any idea what you've gotten yourself into?" she said, patting the bedspread by her feet. "Sit down. You've got a lot to learn."

Marissa's eyes narrowed. Who was this girl to get all up in her business and tell her how long she was going to be in here? "You're obviously in here for a reason," she said coolly, ignoring Hanna's invitation.

Hanna threw her hands up. "Jeez! Don't get pissed or anything. I was just saying...you know what? I was in here for a reason, but now? I'm not so sure. I'm recovering from anorexia and I feel great. I haven't cut in three weeks either. Life is so...refreshing now."

"Are you kidding? Have they brainwashed you or something? You're like, a total zombie," Marissa asked. She could enjoy Hanna's company, she supposed.

"No, no, I thought just like you did when I first came here," Hanna assured her, "I had no faith in anything and I didn't care what happened to me. Then I realized that I didn't want to _die_. I want to be free."

Marissa's brows furrowed. "You cut? What?"

"Sit down," Hanna repeated, "I used to. Like, I would slash my thighs with a razor. And my wrists. I've got scars." She rolled up her sleeve and stuck her arm out. "Terrible habit, I know."

Marissa gaped at the rows of scars, some just shadows and some still quite raw, lined up from Hanna's wrist to just below her elbow.

"Don't be so shocked," Hanna said, "And will you _please_ sit down!"

She sat on the edge of Hanna's bed, accidentally grazing her leg. "Sorry," Marissa whispered, dumbstruck by what she'd just seen.

"Don't be." Hanna smiled and held out her hand. "Friends?"

Marissa placed her hand over Hanna's. "Okay," she agreed. After all, they were now roommates.

"You know," Hanna said, "You're still a crazy. I'm not." But before she could ask what that meant, Hanna continued, "Let me tell you about all the patients in this wing. And the nurses. You've got to watch out for Nurse Bradshaw – she's sour as lemons..."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jimmy glanced at his watch. "Jules, we'd better get going." He pointed to Kaitlyn who was curled up in Julie's arms. "It's late, but I've got a meeting tomorrow that I can't postpone."

Julie stood up and Kaitlyn grumbled. "Marissa, sweetheart, we're leaving." Marissa stood up and stiffly kissed her mother.

She hugged her, then breathed in the expensive smell so she could remember it when they were gone.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Julie told her, "I love you." She shook Kaitlyn gently. "Kaity, we're leaving. Do you want to say goodbye?"

"Bye, sissy," Kaitlyn murmured. Marissa kissed her mussed up hair and patted her.

Jimmy cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, kiddo," he said, brushing Marissa's cheek with his lips. A single tear rolled down his cheek and Marissa squeezed her insides tightly, so as to keep herself from breaking into tears.

They were leaving. This was for real.

"Take me with you," she whispered. Jimmy seemed not to hear her, and instead followed Julie and Kaitlyn out of the room.

And then she was alone.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Morning, girls!" A robust woman in uniform flicked on the lights. Hanna groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers around her face.

Marissa shoved her head under her pillow and pulled her covers to her chin. They kept these hospitals freezing, she thought; it was ridiculous really, especially when there were so many sick patients to consider.

"Time for breakfast." The nurse said, struggling to remove the pillow from Marissa's head. "Oh, you're the new one!" she said, seeing Marissa's face for the first time. "I'm Miss Brenda, that's Miss Hawkins to you now. I'll just leave your breakfast on the night table. You'd best get up and eat quickly though. Dr. Livingston wants a word with you at eight sharp."

Once Miss Hawkins had given Hanna her breakfast tray, she left the room. Marissa curled up, intending to go back to sleep again. But Hanna bounced onto her bed.

"Mind if I eat with you?" Hanna asked, but Marissa could already hear her chewing. She sat up and watched a forkful of eggs disappear into Hanna's mouth.

"How can you just...eat...just like that?" Marissa asked. She glanced at her own tray, the untouched food growing cold.

Hanna swallowed and picked up a glass of orange juice. "You can't keep up the charade forever, you know," she remarked somewhat sadly, her eyelids drooping, "I tried."

Marissa wanted to ask her just what she meant but kept quiet. Hanna seemed alright but she wasn't prepared to tell her everything.

Hanna continued without skipping a beat. "I didn't eat when I first came here and they were fine with it. For a little while. But then they hooked me up to these awful tubes and I was force-fed. All day. Nutrients constantly feeding into my bloodstream. They'll do it to you eventually. You might as well eat and get it over with."

Mechanically, Marissa reached for her tray and placed it on her lap. She picked up her fork and began to section off the eggs.

_Don't. They can't make you. _

When the eggs were spread across her plate in tiny pieces, she poked them into a neat little pile on one side of her plate. Hanna picked up her breakfast biscuit and took a bite. Marissa pulled hers apart until it was in six pieces, and then cast them next to the eggs.

After she cut the strawberries into three bits each and heard the hollow tinkle of fork against plate, she dropped it on the tray. She liked the sound, she decided. Empty sounded just as good as it felt.

"Are you going to eat those?" Hanna pointed to the strawberries, lined up like soldiers. Marissa shook her head. "Can I have them?"

Marissa stared at her plate. Everything was in order; the meal was untouched, everything was still there.

To ruin it would wreck her handiwork. But if she did give Hanna the fruit, it would seem as though she was making an effort to eat...

Wordlessly Marissa scooped her strawberries onto Hanna's plate. Hanna caught a piece on her fork and chewed it slowly. She grinned at Marissa with her mouth still full. "Thanks," she said.

No, thank you, thought Marissa, but just replied, "Don't mention it."

Good. You see how easy it is? A piece of cake. You'll have them all wrapped around your finger in no time.

Once Hanna was finished with the strawberries, she put her tray on her nightstand. Marissa did the same. Hanna walked over to the chest of drawers across from her bed and pulled out a purple t-shirt and jeans.

"What are you doing?" Marissa looked down at her hospital nightgown.

Hanna turned and gazed questionably at Marissa. "What do you think I'm doing? Getting dressed, of course!"

"But why? It's not like you're going anywhere.".

Hanna shrugged. "You can wear _that_ if you want to..." she pointed to the gown, "But I wouldn't be caught dead in it during the day."

Marissa slid out of bed, flinching when her bare feet hit the cold floor. She opened her suitcase and took out her black Juicy lounge pants and a light pink Michael Stars tee.

"Why do they keep it so cold in here?" she wondered aloud. She slipped out of the nightgown and rubbed her arms in a futile attempt to warm up.

Hanna studied Marissa's figure. "Maybe if you weren't so damn skinny, maybe if you actually had an ounce of fat then you wouldn't be so cold," she said under her breath.

She was jealous, that was all, Marissa told herself as she turned her back on Hanna and changed. Marissa could tell that she was upset because she had given in, wasn't strong enough to survive.

You won't let yourself give up, will you? You're not that thin anyway. This is total nonsense, this hospitalization. You're perfectly healthy.

Yes, I am, Marissa agreed...with herself?

"Are you ready?" Hanna asked after a few moments, and Marissa realized that she'd spaced out. She half-nodded and zipped up her suitcase. She'd have to unpack later. No...it was probably best that she didn't. She wouldn't be in here long. They'd realize sooner or later that she was in good health.

Hanna opened the door to their room and bumped into Dr. Livingston. "Oh...Dr. Livingston, hi," she mumbled, and slipped past him. "Catch you later, Marissa!"

"Good morning, Marissa. How are you?" Dr. Livingston shut the door and walked over to Marissa. She sat down on her bed in response. He opened a manila folder, scanned its contents, and shut it. "I'm just going to take a few minutes to let you know what's going on here. Then you can go join the other girls."

She nodded dutifully, not really listening as the doctor pulled a chair up beside her bed.

"No one is going to force you to eat, Marissa," he said. Marissa looked sullenly at him. "But, if you do not eat on your own, we'll have to hook you up to an IV in order for you get the proper nutrients."

"Why?" Marissa questioned. "I know what I'm doing. I'm fine. I don't see why it's anyone's business but my own."

Dr. Livingston took in her skeletal features; she was all bones and sunken-in cheeks. "You'll die," he told her, "You'll die if you don't eat."

"So?" she challenged nonchalantly, "It's my body. I don't want anything contaminating it."

"There are so many people who don't want you to die, Marissa. And there's so much to _live_ for. So unfortunately, what you want is not our first priority here. Keeping you alive, that's on the top of our agenda." Dr. Livingston shook his head. It always saddened him to see these girls blinded by the sheer pleasure they got from watching everybody around them suffer, so much that they didn't even feel their own pain and misery.

Marissa's eyes flared with anger. The doctor didn't know what he was talking about! Nobody _really_ cared what happened to her; it just wouldn't be right if they said so while she was still around. She'd show them. When she was dead, they'd all be sorry, and...wait.

She wasn't going to die.

No.

_No._

Definitely not.

_Definitely._

Because she wasn't even sick.

_Sick? You? Please._

She was as far from death as humanly possible. She would fly free soon enough. When she was no longer weighed down by herself, then they'd all understand.


End file.
